As they went down the river, snow began to fall.  It filled the air and covered the deck with wet, slowly moving flakes, and the water which swallowed it up all round the ship looked duller and darker by contrast.  Everybody went below, most people occupied themselves with arranging their possessions so as to be most comfortable during the voyage; Maurice, who had few possessions to arrange, took out that morning’s Times, and sat down to read.

The first two or three days of a voyage are generally nearly a blank to landsmen.  Maurice was no exception to the rule.  Even Lucia commanded only a moderate share of his thoughts till England and Ireland were fairly out of sight, and the ‘India’ making her steady course over the open ocean.  Then he began to watch the weather as eagerly as if the ship’s speed and safety had depended on his care.  Every day he went, the moment the notice was put up, to see what progress they had made since the day before, and, according as their rate of movement was slower or faster, his day and night were serene or disturbed.

The number of passengers was small.  With what there were he soon formed the kind of acquaintance which people shut up together for a certain time generally make with each other.  Everybody was eager for the conclusion of the voyage, for the weather, though on the whole fine, was intensely cold, and only the bravest or hardiest could venture to spend much time on deck.  Down below every device for killing time was in requisition; but in spite of all, the question, “When shall we reach New York?” was discussed over and over again; and each indication of their voyage being by a few hours shorter than they had a right to expect, was hailed with the greatest delight.

One day when they were really near the end of their voyage, Maurice and a fellow-passenger, a young man of about his own age, were walking briskly up and down the deck, trying to keep themselves warm, and talking of Canada, to which they were both bound.  A sailor who had come for some purpose to the part of the deck where they were, suddenly called their attention to a curl of smoke far off on the horizon; it was something homeward bound, he said—­he could not tell what, but they would most likely pass near each other.

The two young men had been thinking of going down, but the idea of meeting a ship of any kind was sufficient excitement to keep them on deck.  They continued their walk, stopping every now and then to watch the smoke as it grew more and more distinct.  Presently the steamer itself became visible, and other persons began to assemble and guess what steamer it could be and how long it would be before they passed each other.  Meanwhile the stranger came nearer and nearer; at last it could be recognized—­the ‘Atalanta,’ from New York to Havre.  Maurice borrowed a glass from one of the officers, and, going a little apart from the group on the deck of the ‘India,’ set himself to examine