CHAPTER XIX.

Now, Emma, now the last reflection make, What thou wouldst follow, what thou must forsake By our ill-omen'd stars and adverse Heaven, No middle object to thy choice is given. _Henry and Emma._ The sun was high in heaven; the boats were busily fetching off from the shore the promised supply of provisions and water, which, as many fishing skiffs were employed in the service, were got on board with unexpected speed, and stowed away by the crew of the sloop, with equal d…