Thus Mrs. De Brooke, in the midst of trouble on her own account, was frequently called upon to condole with those who were continually flocking in, and forming an assemblage in her drawing-room—how different in appearance from those which she had there so often entertained!—now, as herself, awaiting, anxiously desirous to embark.
Few were the moments allowed for composing their scattered and agitated thoughts. A messenger summoned them to the beach, where the boat was resting upon its oars, to convey them to the vessel lying off at sea. The tide was about retreating—no delay could be admitted.
Giving precedence to her companions in distress, Mrs. De Brooke, leaning on the arm of the General, followed with her daughters. Arrived at the water-side, the sorrowful group prepared to leave the country. The oars were dashed amidst the billows, mingling their sounds with the many adieus and farewell accents, successively repeated, and silently answered by those who waved aloft their arms, as they mournfully stood contemplating the bearing away over the trackless ocean that lovely and endearing train, solaced, however, with the hope of soon returning, and of passing the interval on a coast not remote.
