Jill: a Flower Girl by L.T. Meade

The moon and the stars have some advantages which mankind in times of perplexity would gladly possess. For instance, they can take a bird's-eye view of events; from their lofty standpoint they can look down on more than one place at a time in this small world. Doubtless things of immense and overpowering importance to us assume their juster proportions from this immeasurable distance.

On the night which should have been Silas Lynn's wedding night, there was a clear sky, the moon was at its full, and the stars shone in multitudes in the deep blue firmament. Amongst other things they looked down on a ship returning to its native shores. There were sailors on board of course, and many passengers, and, amongst others, a rather disconsolate, pale-faced, freckled boy, who sat on his bunk in the sailors' cabin, and rubbed his tear-stained, small eyes with one dirty knuckle, while in his other hand he held a pen, and tried to scribble some words on a sheet of paper.