spectators, and again the Ariel sprang like a dolphin over the glittering sea; the wind was now considerably abated, and the quickness of her peculiar movement, was, in consequence, in some degree doubtful; but she gained her point, sprung round on the first motion of the helm, as if upon a pivot, shot far ahead of every opposition, and reached the beach amidst deafening acclamations, flags flying, guns firing, and caps flung up with long and reiterated peals of applause. Frank's heart was full he danced, he screamed, he waved his hat, and finally sat down upon the deck and shouted, and wept, and laughed, by

turns.

A few hours were now spent in cruizing about from point to point, in receiving the congratulations of friends, and in discussing the accident of the second heat, which was not only an insult to the boat, and a misfortune to the race, but an imputation on the seamanship

of the commander. At last, the Ariel prepared to leave the scene and return to her own harbour; as she sailed away she was greeted with three cheers from the unsuccessful candidates for the honours she had won, and as she left the bay, each crowded ship she passed repeated the compliment, till she was far out at sea. She now wound round to the southern coast of the Isle of Wight, and about sunset reached the beach near the dwelling of Captain Hartwell.

Frank and his friends were welcomed to the cottage by his grandmamma, and into her ear he poured the full story of the exploits of the day; over and over again he repeated each glowing incident and every joyous triumph, till his tongue, and her patience, were equally wearied; he retired to bed, and in his dreams he again fought the battle of the morning, laughed, and screamed, and raved, and rejoiced, till the noise of his own mirth awoke

him, and again he sunk to sleep, his mind still full of the regatta, and his ears still ringing with stunning shouts and the loud reports of echoing guns and cannon.

CHAPTER VI.

THE STAGE-COACH-THE RETURN-A CHANGE

OF PURSUITS-THE DISCLOSURE.

'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark, Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home; 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come.

BYRON.

THE regatta was now over, and Frank's happiness and peace of mind were destroyed for Again the day of his departure arrived, and he was forced to bid farewell to his kind

ever.

uncle and his grandmamma. He did not, however, feel now so thoroughly sad as he had done on the former occasion; the grand object of

his ambition was attained, and the eagerness of his curiosity satisfied; in addition to this, he was pluming himself on the story which he had now to bring home to his mamma, and the long accounts of the country, of Southampton, of the Isle of Wight, the sea, the ships, and, above all, the regatta, which he could now relate to his wondering companions at the village, He was sorry, and at the same time he was very happy, not only in the thoughts of what was past, but in the prospect of returning in the following summer to pay another visit to his uncle and the Ariel. Poor Frank! he little knew the misery and misfortunes which awaited him, ere another twelve months should have rolled over. In the steam-boat which conveyed him to Southampton, he could talk or think of nothing else than the regatta, and to each succession of listeners he repeated, for the fiftieth time, all the items of the contest, without, in any particular, omitting the glorious performances of the Ariel, and the active