"Give me your hand! I am glad to know you. I agree with you
exactly. My name is WHITTEMORE."
But Mr. P. did not waste all his time in talking to strangers and
concocting enigmas. He had come to Newport with a purpose. It was none
of the ordinary purposes of watering place visitors. These he could
carry out elsewhere.
His object in coming here was grand, unusual and romantic. _He came to
be rescued by IDA LEWIS!_
It was not easy to devise a plan for this noble design, and it was not
until the morning of the second day of his visit, that Mr. P. was ready
for the adventure. Then he hired a boat, and set sail, alone, o'er the
boundless bosom of the Atlantic.
He had not sailed more than a few hours on said boundless bosom, before
he turned his prow back towards land,--towards the far-famed Lime Rocks,
on which the intrepid heroine dwells. He had thought of being wrecked at
night, but fearing that IDA might not be able to find him in the dark,
he gave up this idea. His present intention was that Miss LEWIS should
believe him to be a lonely mariner from a far distance, tossed by the
angry waves upon her rock-bound coast But there was a certain difficulty
in the way, which Mr. P. feared would prove fatal to his hopes.
The sea was just as smooth as glass!
And the wind all died away!
There was not enough left to ruffle a squirrel's tail.
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