ΤΟ G. I. GUTHRIE, ESQ., F. R. S. &c. &c. &c. DEAR SIR, The language of gratitude and friendship is so powerful as well as simple, that I need seek none other in requesting your acceptance of these volumes. I will not apologise to you for any want of merit discoverable in them, since I am fully aware that none are such lenient judges of the performances of others, as those who most abound in genius and ability themselves. Ever, dear Sir, Permit me to remain Your obliged and faithful W. JOHNSON NEALE. THE FLYING DUTCHMAN. CHAPTER I. Happy they were, and innocent, till love, "A FEW more hours," said the prisoner, “and his revenge will be complete! By this time to-morrow night, and I shall have been tried -condemned—and broken! Merciful accuser! could he have his will to the utmost, no doubt that breaking would be upon the wheel. But relentless as he is, he must be content with the spirit of his victim. It is a question, however, who suffers most; the wretch VOL. 1. B whose limbs are slowly mangled and so left, till in a few days the worn-out frame expires; or he who, with ambition nipped in its strong budding, his prospects annihilated, and his name degraded, must either pass years in bitter struggle to regain a lost position, or, sinking slowly day by day, resign all hope and fortune, quiet of mind, and health of body, to become perhaps a tippler, and so feel the flame of life go out. He does not die. This to the fiery soul is not dying. It is a decay which antedates the corruption of the grave. This was not the death which I pictured to myself on entering the navy. swell of victory-the roar of battle-the cheers of conquest-the warm grasp of comrades-the choking sob-the irrepressible tear of my rude seamen-the glory and the glow of a victor's dying heart-these were in my fancy-nay, more, these were in my prayers-when I gave up everything for the service of my country. What an intense feeling of madness overpowers me, when I reflect that these high aspirations have come to this! A lieutenant's cabin, with The an armed sentry at its door-a long arrestthe disgrace of a narrow prison for a few more hours-and then-a trial-if such that mockery of justice can be called, where the only object sought is the condemnation of the accused. "A brief space since, and whose advancement seemed more certain than mine? whose name stood higher? who more favoured-more applauded-more entrusted? And for what have I made these sacrifices? A fair face! I may well start at this summing up of all that has wrought the change-and that even that is still as far from being mine as everperhaps even more SO. But I do not fall alone. Thousands of better hearts than mine have perilled all for nothing more, and found shipwreck on the same coast. And even I, were it to come again, would do the same this very hour. We cannot control the heart, even if we would. I have staked boldly, and I will win her yet, or pay the forfeit fearlessly. Yes, she is worth it!" said the prisoner, after a brief pause in his sad musings. |