“Your Highnes most faithful subject that hathe bine from the beginninge, and wylbe to my ende,

“Elizabeth.”

I humbly crave but only one worde of answer from your selfe.

Ellis’s Original Letters.

* * * * *

THE NOVELIST.

No.  CXI.

THE MUTINY.

  ——­O God! 
  Had you but seen his pale, pale blanched cheek! 
  He would not eat.—­O Christ!

  THE BERYL.

In the summer of the year 18—­, I was the only passenger on board the merchantman, Alceste, which was bound to the Brazils.  One fine moonlight night, I stood on the deck, and gazed on the quiet ocean, on which the moon-beams danced.  The wind was so still, that it scarcely agitated the sails, which were spread out to invite it.  I looked round; it was the same on every side—­a world of waters:  not a single object diversified the view, or intercepted the long and steady glance which I threw over the ocean.  I have heard many complain of the sameness and unvarying uniformity of the objects which oppose themselves to the eye of the voyager.  I feel differently; I can gaze for hours, without weariness, on the deep, occupied with the thought it produces; I can listen to the rush of the element as the vessel cleaves it, and these things have charms for me which others cannot perceive.

I heard, on a sudden, a noise, which seemed to proceed from the captain’s cabin, and I thought I could distinguish the voices of several men, speaking earnestly, though in a suppressed tone.  I cautiously drew near the spot from whence the noise arose, but the alarm was given, and I could see no one.  I retired to rest, or rather to lie down; for I felt that heavy and foreboding sense of evil overpower me, which comes we know not how or wherefore; and I could not sleep, knowing that there had been disputes between the captain and his men, respecting some point of discipline, and I feared to think what might be the consequences.  I lay a long time disturbed with these unpleasant reflections; at last, wearied with my thoughts, my eyes closed, and I dropped to sleep.  But it was not to that refreshing sleep which recruits the exhausted spirits, and by awhile “steeping the senses in forgetfulness,” renders them fitter for exertion on awakening.  My sleep was haunted with hideous and confused dreams, and murder and blood seemed to surround me.  I was awakened by convulsive starts, and in vain sought again for quiet slumber; the same images filled my mind, diversified in a thousand horrid forms.  Early in the morning, I arose, and went above, and the mild sea breeze dispelled my uneasy sensations.