"In England the progress of the expedition was known from day to day,
but on this side of the ocean all was uncertainty. Some had gone to
Heart's Content, hoping to witness the arrival of the fleet, but not so
many as the last year, for the memory of their disappointment was too
fresh, and they feared the same result again. But still a faithful few
were there, who kept their daily watch. Two weeks have passed. It is
Friday morning, the 27th of July. They are up early, and looking
eastward to see the day break, when a ship is seen in the offing. She is
far down on the horizon. Spy-glasses are turned toward her. She comes
nearer; and look, there is another, and another! And now the hull of the
'Great Eastern' looms up all glorious in that morning sky. They are
coming! Instantly all is wild excitement on shore. Boats put off to row
toward the fleet. The 'Albany' is the first to round the point and enter
the bay. The 'Terrible' is close behind; the 'Medway' stops an hour or
two to join on the heavy shore end, while the 'Great Eastern,' gliding
calmly in as if she had done nothing remarkable, drops her anchor in
front of the telegraph house, having trailed behind her a chain of two
thousand miles, to bind the old world to the new.
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