Chapter 11

"Go tenderness of years; take this key. Give enlargement to the
swain--bring him festinately hither. I must employ him in a letter to my
love."

Love's Labour Lost.

I will not attempt to analyze the feelings which now impelled me to quit
America. I had discovered, or thought I had discovered, certain qualities
in Andrew Drewett which rendered him, in some measure, at least worthy of
Lucy; and I experienced how painful it is to concede such an advantage to
a rival. Still, I must be just enough to add, that, in my cooler moments,
when I came to consider that Lucy could never be mine, I was rejoiced to
find such proofs of a generous disposition in her future husband. On the
other hand, I could not divest myself of the idea that perfect confidence
in his own position, could alone enable him to be so liberal in his
opinions of myself. The reader will understand how extravagant was this
last supposition, when he remembers that I had never given Lucy herself,
or the world, any sufficient reason to suppose that I was a suitor for the
dear girl's hand.

I never saw Marble so industrious as he proved to be when he received my
hurried orders for sailing, that afternoon. He shipped his mother and
niece for Willow Cove, by an Albany sloop, the same evening, got the crew
on board, and the Dawn into the stream, before sunset, and passed half
the night in sending off small stores. As for the ship, she had been
cleared the day the hatches were battened down. According to every rule of
mercantile thrift, I ought to have been at sea twenty-four hours, when
these orders were given; but a lingering reluctance to go further from the
grave of Grace, the wish to have one more interview with Lucy, and a
disposition to indulge my mate in his commendable zeal to amuse his
new-found relatives, kept me in port beyond my day.

All these delays, however, were over, and I was now in a feverish hurry to
be off. Neb came up to the City Hotel as I was breakfasting, and reported
that the ship was riding at single anchor, with a short range, and that
the fore-top-sail was loose. I sent him to the post-office for letters, and
ordered my bill. All my trunks had gone aboard before the ship hauled off,
and,--the distances in New York then being short,--Neb was soon back, and
ready to shoulder my carpet-bag. The bill was paid, three or four letters
were taken in my hand, and I walked towards the Battery, followed by the
faithful black, who had again abandoned home, Chloe, and Clawbonny, to
follow my fortunes.

I delayed opening the letters until I reached the Battery. Despatching Neb
to the boat, with orders to wait, I took a turn among the trees,--still
reluctant to quit the native soil--while I broke the seals. Two of