The old and grave-looking seamen shook their weather-wise heads as if foretelling a storm.
As Clotelle came on deck, she strained her eyes in vain to catch a farewell view of her native land.

With a smile on her countenance, but with her eyes filled with tears, she said,-- "Farewell, farewell to the land of my birth, and welcome, welcome, ye dark blue waves.

I care not where I go, so it is 'Where a tyrant never trod, Where a slave was never known, But where nature worships God, If in the wilderness alone.'" Devenant stood by her side, seeming proud of his future wife, with his face in a glow at his success, while over his noble brow clustering locks of glossy black hair were hanging in careless ringlets.

His finely-cut, classic features wore the aspect of one possessed with a large and noble heart.
Once more the beautiful Clotelle whispered in the ear of her lover,-- "Away, away, o'er land and sea, America is now no home for me." The winds increased with nightfall, and impenetrable gloom surrounded the ship.

The prospect was too uncheering, even to persons in love.