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NATALIE;

or,

A GEM AMONG THE SEA-WEEDS

By

FERNA VALE.

1859.



To thee, my darling Hattie, I dedicate the Sea-Flower
would that this casket contained for such as thou,
a purer gem.




PREFACE.


In writing the following pages the author has spent pleasant hours,
which perhaps might have been less profitably employed: if anything of
interest be found among them, it is well,--and, should any be led to
take up their Cross in meekness and humility, searching out the path
that leads the wanderer home, it is indeed well.






NATALIE.




CHAPTER I.


THE SEA-FLOWER.


  "What was it that I loved so well about my childhood's home?
   It was the wide and wave-lashed shore, the black rocks crowned with foam!
   It was the sea-gull's flapping wing, all trackless in its flight,
   Its screaming note, that welcomed on the fierce and stormy night!
   The wild heath had its flowers and moss, the forest had its trees,
   Which, bending to the evening wind, made music in the breeze;
   But earth,--ha! ha! I laugh e'en now,--earth had no charms for me,
   Nor scene half bright enough to win my young heart from the sea.
   No! 't was the ocean, vast and deep, the fathomless, the free,--
   The mighty rushing waters, that were ever dear to me!"

        ELIZA COOK.


  "But the goodly pearl which the merchant bought,
     And for which his all he gave,
   Was a purer pearl than will e'er be brought
     From under the FOAMING wave."

        H. F. GOULD.


"Massa Grobener! Massa Grobener! Please, sar, look here! De good Lord
hab left his mitest ob angels here on de beach; and please, sar, step
low or de wee bit will take to its wings and fly away. De good Lord be
praised! but old Bingo hab found many a bright sea-weed in his day, but
dis am de sweetest sea-flower ob de whole."

And as he spoke, the little one stretched out its tiny arms toward the
poor old black man and gave a faint moan. Captain Grosvenor, who had now
come up with the <DW64>, was no less surprised than had been old Vingo,
at discovering, among the fresh, bright sea-weed, an infant some eight
months old. The babe was carefully lashed into a large wooden trough or
bowl, and a canvas firmly stretched over the top, permitting only the
head and arms to remain exposed, and judging from the dripping condition
of the worthy little sea-craft, it could not have been many moments
since it had come to anchor on the smooth, hard beach; probably the now
receding waves had borne the precious burden to this most welcome
harbor--"whereby hangs a tale."

"De good Lord be praised, massa! but dis am de most curous ob all
sea-ve'cles that eber trabers de great waters! I sure it must be a
speint from de great scripture ark massa read about in de good book; or
may be it am one ob those old-time chariots, fiery chariots, we sings
about; only it so moist around here, it put de fire all out and leabe de
chariot. Or I tink it may be one ob dose machines Bingo used to see in
old slabe-massa's church, hung up ober de minister's head, to make de
good psalms or de prayers go de right way, and I don't remember which;
old Bingo always retained a bery bad memory, eber since before he was a
child; but I tink dey used to call it a sound board, though it was full
ob cracks."

Ah! poor fellow, had you seen that heart-rending look of despair,
mingled with sweet resignation, upon the face of that mother! had you
seen the glistening tear in the eye of that noble father, as, but a few
hours before, they consigned their idolized child to the mercies of the
deep; had you heard that prayer to God, if it might be his will, to
spare their darling from an ocean-grave, your great heart would have
been, if possible, kindled to a greater love for that helpless
little one!

Captain Grosvenor, after having carefully taken the child from the
grotesque looking craft, which had proved so trustworthy a sailor, and
wiped the drops of spray from its little face, wrapped it in a large
bandana, and gave it to the faithful Vingo, while he took his glass and
scanned the distant horizon; for well did he know, though even at
noon-day, that one more unfortunate bark had gone down near that dread
"Nantucket shoal," upon which so many noble hearts have found a watery
grave. "I see nothing," said the Captain, "nothing, not even a passing
sail; which is quite uncommon at this season, when so many vessels are
constantly passing and repassing our island; not even the light-boat do
I see, which is probably owing to a fog coming in from the sea, as yet
imperceptible to us here. Poor fellows! I fear they have gone down
without a soul to help them! It seems hard when there are so many stout
hearts and ready arms here, willing to risk their lives in the attempt
to save. Those shoals, Vingo, are the only unkind thing there is about
our cherished island; but the will of God be done. Truly his ways are
unsearchable."

"Den you tinks, massa, dis little sea-flower was left here trough
mistake, by de Lord?"

"It most assuredly was left here by the Lord, Vingo,