Somewhere--God guiding--we shall find a home again, and days of peace." "Ay! you were ever of brave heart, Eloise.

But let us not forget we yet remain in reach of Spanish claws, and they are merciless.

Go back to the tiller a while, and let me lay hold upon this oar; 'tis heavy work for such soft hands as yours.

Point the course direct for the cane island--you must remember it; you were there once with me." I fail to recall even glancing into her face as she sat fronting me, her hands upon the tiller bar.

I durst not, fearing some telltale expression within my eyes might bring her added pain.