Brandon of the Engineers

A few minutes later their conductor left them with a sarcastic farewell,

the ropes were cast off, and the steamer swung out from the wharf. When,

with engines throbbing steadily, she headed down the bay, Dick went to

his berth, and on getting up next morning found the American coast had

sunk to a low, gray streak to starboard. A fresh southwest breeze was

blowing under a cloudy sky and the vessel, rolling viciously, lurched

across the white-topped combers of the warm Gulf Stream.

After breakfast, some of his companions gathered into listless, grumbling

groups, and some brought out packs of greasy cards, but Dick sat by

himself, wondering with more buoyant feelings what lay before him. He had

known trouble and somehow weathered it, and now he was bound to a country

where the sun was shining. It was pleasant to feel the soft air on his

face and the swing of the spray-veiled bows. After all, good fortune

might await him down South.