August, the 7th day.
When I began this tale of our captivity it was with the hope that I
might find some means of sending it to friends, in this country or in
England, who would interest themselves in obtaining our release.
However, from what Mr. Collins told me, I feel assured that news of Mr.
Rivers's capture has already been sent to their Lordships the
proprietors, and this record of mine seems now but wasted labour. Yet
from time to time, for my own solace, I shall add to it; and perchance,
some day in safety and freedom, I and----another----may together read
its tear-stained pages.
This day I have completed the seventeenth year of my age. It is a double
anniversary, for one year ago this night--it being the eve of our
departure from England--I first set eyes upon my dear love.
Can it be possible that he, in his dolorous prison, has taken account of
the passing days and remembers that night--a year ago? 'Twould be liker
a man if he took no thought of the date till it was past,--yet I do
greatly wonder if he has forgotten.
As for me, the memory has lived with me all these hours since I unclosed
my eyes at dawn.
I can see now the brightly lighted cabin of the _Carolina_, where the
long supper-table was laid for the many passengers who were to set out
on the morrow for a new world. I had been somehow parted from my uncle,
Dr. Scrivener, and I stood in the cabin doorway half afraid to venture
in and meet the eyes of all the strangers present. I felt the colour
mounting warmly in my cheek, and my feet were very fain to run away,
when Captain Henry Brayne, the brave and cheery commander of the
frigate, caught sight of me, and, rising hastily, led me to a seat at
his own right hand.
(I do recollect that I wore a new gown of fine blue cloth--a soft and
tender colour, that became me well.)
As I took my place I glanced shyly round, and saw, at the farther end of
the long table, the gallantest gentleman I had ever set eyes upon in all
my sixteen years of life. He was looking directly at me, and presently
he lifted his glass and said:
"Captain Brayne, I give you _the Carolina and every treasure she
contains_!"
There was some laughter as the toast was drunk, and my uncle--who had
only that moment entered and taken his seat beside me--asked of me an
explanation.
"Nay, Dr. Scrivener," said the jovial captain, "'tis not likely the
little lady was attending. But now I give you--_the health of Mistress
Tudor!_ (and it will not be the first time it has been proposed
to-night!)"
And that was but a year ago. I would never have guessed that at
seventeen I could feel so very old.