The hanging clouds were narrowing the horizon to a span, and gloomily mingling with the rising surges.

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.