“Father, we are going home.”

Her words fell upon the ear of an officer of the ship, a gentleman of that nobleness of soul which alone constitutes a true man; one whose kind and gentlemanly consideration of the comfort and pleasure of those who have, from time to time, crossed that three thousand miles of ocean which separates Liverpool from New York, have before been publicly mentioned, and will long be remembered by those who have before come under his guidance.  “We are going home,”—­the officer raised his hat as he passed the Sea-flower, involuntarily repeating her words,—­words which many times have been idly spoken, but how full of meaning.

As that gallant steamship made her way over the rolling billows, like “a thing of life,” as if indeed she recognized the course o’er which she had so many times borne aloft her proud head, in seasons of tempest as well as of sunshine, there was not one who walked her decks, but looked upon her gigantic form as an ark of safety, rather than the frail plank which only separated not far from three hundred immortal beings from an ocean grave.  Several days’ sail left “merrie England” far behind, and as they drew nearer the American shores, many an eye was deluded with the belief that it had been the successful one, in being the first to make the outline of the nearest shore of this land of the free.  There was the eye of youth, lit up with the light of innocence, which when riper years should have left their impress, might have given place to more of guile; while hand in hand, along her peaceful decks, roamed old age and infancy, alike joyous in the air of cheerfulness which reigned with all around.

It was near the hour of mid-day, weather favorable, with the exception of a fog which had suddenly sprung up.  Occasionally the signal bell sounded, that if any vessel were in their neighborhood, she might know of their whereabouts.  The fog as suddenly lifted as it had shut in upon them, but to close down again heavier than before.  Natalie had not, as most of the ladies, gone below, but stood, intent upon those new thoughts which the veil of fog, which had shut out all sight and sound, save an occasional tone of the bell, had inspired, when,—­a crash, which shook their vessel from stem to stern, caused every one to look upon the countenance of his fellow, there to read the words which he had no power to utter.  A propeller was at that instant seen moving athwart their bows, and from the severity of the shock, it was thought that the smaller vessel must have sustained serious damage.  Accordingly a boat was lowered from the steamer, under command of the first officer, to render the unfortunates such assistance as was in their power, believing their own damages to be but slight; but the boat had not been long gone, when word was passed to their captain that they were in a sinking condition.  Upon examination it was found that a large breakage had been made, directly under their bows, and the sea was rushing in terrifically.