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The Privateer's-Man - One hundred Years Ago
by Frederick Marryat
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By this time I had arrived at the mouth of the river, and, looking out to seaward, I saw a schooner at anchor. She was about three miles off. That she was a pirate vessel, I presumed. Should I go on board of her or not? and if so, how was I to get on board? All her boats were up: and I surmised that she had just left the river with the intention of sailing as soon as there was any wind, for now it was calm. The river ran out swiftly, and I thought I should be able to swim the distance with the assistance I should obtain from the current, which swept down right for her, and she was riding to its strength.

I was demurring. I had been perhaps two hours on the beach, waiting to see if she might send a boat on shore, when, as I stood at the river-side, still hesitating, I happened to turn round and perceived three Indians coming down upon me as fast as they could. I hesitated no longer, but plunged into the stream, and was swept out two hundred yards before they arrived at the beach. I made for the schooner; and the current ran out so fast, that in half an hour I was close to her. I swam for her cable, which I clung to, and then shouted loudly. This induced some of the crew to look over the bows, and they handed me a bowling knot, into which I fixed myself, and was hauled on board.

I was dragged aft to give an account of myself, and I stated in few words that I had been pursued by the Indians, and swam off to save my life.

"Hav'n't we met before?" said a rough voice.

I looked, and saw the Jolly Rover, whom I had fallen in with on shore. I said, "Yes; I was escaping from the Indians when I met you, and you showed me the direction of the plantations."

"All's right," said he. "It's a true bill; and were those Indians after you that we saw on the beach just now?"

"Yes," I replied; and then I stated how it was that they had attacked our cabin, and how we had escaped.

"That was well done, and so you swam off three miles. Fire and water won't hurt you; that's clear. You're just the man for us. What thing-um-bob is this that you have hung round your neck?" said he, taking up the leathern bag with the diamond in it.

"That," replied I—a sudden thought having struck me—"is my caul; I was born with a caul, and I have always worn it, as it saves a man from drowning."

"No wonder that you swam three miles, then," replied the man.

You must know, Madam, that some people are born with a membrane over the face, which is termed a caul, and there has been a vulgar error that such people can never be drowned, especially if they wear this caul about their person in after-life. Sailors are superstitious in many things, but particularly in this, and my caul was therefore as much respected by them as it hung round my neck, as it was by the Indians when they thought it was what they call "magic" or "medicine."

"Well," said the Jolly Rover, "as you had so much fire, so much water, and so much running, I think you won't be sorry to have a biscuit and glass of grog, and then turn in; to-morrow we will talk to you."

I went down below, very glad to accept the offer, and as I was regaling myself, who should come up to me but two of the Portuguese who had been wrecked in the xebeque, and put on shore with me in the little boat by the captain of the Transcendant. I was very glad to see them. They told me that, after great hardship and suffering, they had arrived famished at the banks of this river, and had been taken on board by the pirates, and had remained with them ever since; that they were very anxious to get away, but never had an opportunity. I begged them not to say who I was, but merely that I was once a shipmate of theirs. They promised, and being very tired, I then lay down and fell asleep. I was so worn out, that I did not wake till the next morning, when I found that we were under all sail running down to the southward. I saw the Jolly Rover, as I had termed him, on deck (his real or assumed name, I don't know which, I found out to be Toplift), sitting on a gun abaft. He called me to him. I said,

"Are you the captain?"

"Yes," he replied, "for want of a better. I told you months ago what we were, so it's no use repeating it. Do you intend to join us?"

"Then," replied I, "I will be very candid with you. I have been driven as it were on board of your vessel, but certainly without knowing exactly what she was. Now, captain, I have to ask you one question:—Would you, if you could go on shore in England, with plenty of money at your command, and plenty of good friends,—would you be here?"

"No; certainly not," replied he.

"Well; I am in that position. If once in England, I have money enough to live upon, and plenty of friends; I therefore naturally want to get back to England, and not to run the risk of my neck on board of this vessel."

"That's very true," replied he, "but there are other considerations; my men won't have a man on board who will not swear fidelity, and if you will not, I cannot protect you,—they will throw you overboard. We don't carry passengers."

"That's very true, also; and I will swear fidelity so far as this, that you never shall be betrayed by me, and I never will appear as a witness against one of you; it were most ungrateful if I did. While I am on board, I will do any duty you please to put me to, for I cannot expect to eat my bread for nothing."

"And suppose we come to action?"

"There's the difficulty," replied I; "against an English ship I never will fight."

"But if we are opposed to any other nation, and there is a chance of our being overpowered?"

"Why, then, if you are overpowered, as I shall be hung along with the rest, I think I must do all I can to save my own life; but, overpowered or not, I will not fire a shot or draw a cutlass against my own countrymen."

"Well, I cannot deny but that's all very fair."

"I think," replied I, "it is as much as you can expect; especially as I never will share any prize-money."

"Well; I will talk to the men, and hear what they say; but, now, answer me one question—Are you not a seaman?"

"I will answer the truth to every thing; I am a seaman, and I have commanded a privateer. I have served many years in privateers, and have seen a great deal of hard fighting."

"So I thought," replied he; "and now answer me another question,—Was it not you that played that trick to that French privateer captain at Bordeaux?"

"Yes it was," replied I; "but how came you to know that?"

"Because I was the mate of a merchant vessel that had been captured, and I saw you three or four times as you passed the vessel I was on board of; for, being put in quarantine, we were not sent to prison till the pratique was given. I thought that I knew you again."

"Well; I have no concealment to make."

"No: but I will tell you candidly, my men, if they knew all this, would not allow you to leave the vessel. Indeed, you might be captain if you pleased, for I do not suit them. Our captain—for I was his officer—was killed about six months ago; and I really am not fit for the office—I am too tender-hearted."

"Well; you don't look so," replied I, laughing.

"Can't judge of outsides," replied he; "but it's a fact. They say that they will be all condemned if taken, from my not destroying the crews of the vessels we take; that they will be so many witnesses against them; and I cannot make up my mind to cold-blooded murder. I am bad enough; I rob on the high seas; I kill on the high seas—for we must kill when we fight; but I cannot commit deliberate murder either at sea or on shore, and so I tell them. If any one else could navigate the vessel, I should be superseded immediately."

"I am glad to hear you say what you have, captain, it makes me less dissatisfied at finding myself here. Well; I have said all I can, and I must trust to you to manage with your ship's company."

"It will be a difficult job," said he, musing.

"Tell them," replied I, "that I was once a captain of a vessel like this (after all, there is not so much difference between a pirate and privateer as you may think)—and that I will not be under the command of any one."

"If they hear that, they will give you the command of this vessel."

"I will refuse to take it; and give my reasons."

"Well; I'll tell them that: I leave you to settle with them how you can; but," added he, in a low tone; "there are some desperate villains among them."

"That I take for granted," replied I; "so now I leave you to speak to them."

Toplift did so. He told them that I was a pirate captain, who had lost his vessel and been thrown on shore, but I refused to join any ship except as captain of her; that I would not serve as first officer, and would obey no one. He told them that he knew me before, and he narrated the business at Bordeaux when I commanded a privateer, extolling me, as I afterwards found, beyond all measure.

The crew, having heard what he had to say, went forward, and, after consultation, came to Toplift and said that I must take the oath.

Toplift replied that he had desired me so to do, and that I had answered that I would not. "But," said he, "you had better speak to him yourselves. Call all hands aft and hear what he has to say."

This was done, and I was sent for.

"I have told them what you said, Sir. I don't know your name."

"I have no name," replied I, proudly, "except 'Captain'—that's my name."

The fact is, Madam, I was determined to carry it out bravely; knowing that it is the best way to deal with such people as I now had in hand.

"Well, then, Captain, I have told the men that you will not take the oath."

"Take the oath," replied I, with scorn; "no; I administer the oath to others. I make them take it. I make them swear fidelity to me. Such has been my conduct, and I shall not depart from it."

"Well, but, Captain Toplift, you don't mean to say that he is to remain on board with us and not take the oath," said a surly-looking ruffian. "In spite of you, he shall take the oath, Captain Toplift."

"Captain Toplift," said I, calmly, "do you allow one of your crew to use such language as this. Had I been captain of this ship, I would have blown his brains out as he stood. You don't know to deal with these rascals. I do."

Captain Toplift, who appeared much pleased at being supported in this way by me—(strange that a single individual, whom they might have thrown overboard in a minute, should have gained such an ascendency, but so it was)—and who perceived that the men fell back, as if taken by surprise, then said, "Captain, you have taught me a good lesson, which I will take advantage of. Seize that fellow and put him in irons."

"Hah!" cried the man, seeing that no one touched him: "who is to bell the cat! hah!" and he drew his cutlass.

"I will, then," said I to Captain Toplift, "if you desire it;" and, stepping forward, I went up to the man, saying, "Come, come, my good fellow, this won't do here; I'm used to deal with such chaps as you, and I can manage worse than you, a good deal."

I advanced till I was within the stroke of his cutlass before he was aware of it, and, seizing him by the waist, I threw him flat on his back and put my foot on his neck.

"Now," cried I, in an authoritative voice, "put this man in irons immediately—refuse who dares. Here, you Sirs, lay hold of this fellow," continued I, looking to the Portuguese; who accordingly came forward and led him away, assisted by others, who now joined them.

"Are there any more mutineers here?" inquired I; "if so, let them step forward."

No one stirred.

"My lads," said I, "it is very true that I have refused to take the oath, for the oath is not given to those who command, but to those who obey; but at the same time I am not one to betray you. You know who I am; and is it likely?"

"No, no," replied the men.

"Sir," asked one of them, who had been most forward and insolent, "will you be our captain?—say but the word,—you are the sort of man we want."

"You have a captain already," replied I, "and in a few weeks I shall command a vessel of my own; I cannot, therefore, accept your offer; but while I am on board I will do all in my power to assist Captain Toplift in any way, and you can desire no more. And now, my men, as an old hand, I have but this advice to give you, which is—to return to your duty; for every thing in a vessel of this description depends upon obedience; and to you, Captain Toplift, I have also advice to give, which is—to shoot the first man who behaves as that scoundrel did who is now in irons. Boatswain! pipe down."

I hardly knew whether this latter order would be obeyed by the boatswain, or, if obeyed by the boatswain, whether it would be obeyed by the men; but, to my great satisfaction, it was; and the men retired peaceably.

"Well, Captain Toplift," said I, "I have done you no harm, and myself some good."

"You have indeed," replied he; "come down into the cabin." When we were in the cabin he said, "You have unarmed and subdued the most mutinous rascal in the vessel, and you have strengthened my authority. They fully believe you are what you assert from your behaviour, and I feel, with you at my side, I shall get on better with these fellows than I have done. But now, to keep up the idea, you must, of course, mess in the cabin with me, and I can offer you clothes, not my own, but those of the former captain, which will suit your shape and make."

I readily agreed with him; and having equipped myself in the clothes he offered me, which were handsome, I soon afterwards went on deck with him, and received the greatest respect from the men as I passed them. A cot was slung for me in the cabin, and I lived altogether with Captain Toplift, who was a good-hearted, rough sort of a man, certainly wholly unfit for the command of a vessel manned by such a set of miscreants, and employed on such a service. He told me that he had been taken three years before by a pirate vessel, and finding that he could navigate, they had detained him by force, and that at last he had become accustomed to his position.

"We all must live," said he, "and I had no other means of livelihood left me; but it's sorely against my conscience, and that's the truth. However, I am used to it now, and that reconciles you to any thing, except murder in cold blood, and that I never will consent to."

On my inquiring where they were about to cruise, he said on the Spanish Main.

"But," said I, "it is peace with the Spaniards just now."

"I hardly knew," said he, "it was peace. Not that peace makes any difference to us, for we take every thing; but you refer to myself, I know, and I tell you frankly that I have preferred this cruise merely that we may not fall in with English vessels, which we are not likely to do there. I wish I was out of her with all my heart and soul."

"No doubt of it, Captain Toplift; I think you are sincere. Suppose you put into one of the inlets of Jamaica, they won't know where we are; let us take a boat on shore and leave her. I will provide for you, and you shall gain your living in an honest way."

"God bless you, Sir," said he; "I will try what I can do. We must talk the matter over, for they may suspect something, and then it would be all over with us."

We continued to run down till we were in the latitude of the Virgin Isles, and then we altered her course for Jamaica. The first and second mates generally received information of Captain Toplift as to his movements and intentions, which they communicated to the crew. If the crew disapproved of them, they said so, and they were considered to have some voice in the matter.

Now, although no navigators, these men knew enough of a chart and a course to find that there must be some reason for its being altered as it was, instead of running down by the Spanish Main, and they inquired why the cruise was altered.

Captain Toplift replied that he had taken my advice, and that I had assured him that at the back of the island of Jamaica we should certainly fall in with some rich Spanish vessels, if we lay there quiet in some nook or another for a short time, as this was their time for coming up from the south to the Havannah, where they rendezvoused for a convoy.

This reply appeared very satisfactory to the crew, for they were all cheerful and obedient, and we ran down to Jamaica, and when we were close in shore, we shortened sail and hove to. We remained three or four days in the offing, that we might not cause any suspicion by our leaving too soon. Captain Toplift then told the mates that I proposed anchoring in some secret bay or inlet, as we were certain to see the Spanish ships if we could send any one ashore on the hills to look out for them. This was agreed to, and we made sail and ran along the coast, looking out for some convenient anchorage.

As we were so doing, a vessel hove in sight, and we immediately made all sail in chase. As she did not attempt to avoid us, we hauled off as she came near, to see what she might be. She then hoisted a yellow flag at her peak (for she was an hermaphrodite brig); this puzzled us not a little, and we edged down towards her, for she was very rakish-looking, except in her sails.

As we neared, finding I suppose that we did not answer her signals, and we were not the vessel she expected us to be, she suddenly altered her course before the wind, setting all the sail that she possibly could. We immediately crowded canvas in chase, and came up with her fast. As we ran, the mate and I looked at her through the glass, and I made her out to be the Transcendant, the captain of which had treated us so cruelly when we were in the boat, and who had robbed us of our money and clothes. I called the Portuguese and desired them to look at the vessel through the glass, and give me their opinion. They directly said that it was the vessel I supposed.

"Let us only catch the rascal," said I, "and we will pay him in his own coin;" and I immediately gave directions for the better trimming of the sails, so anxious was I to come up with him.

The men of the schooner were much pleased at the anxiety I displayed to come up with the chase, and by the alacrity with which they obeyed me, I saw how anxious they were that I should be their captain. In two hours we were within gun-shot, and sent one of our bow-chasers after him. Perceiving that it was useless to run, the fellow hove to, and as we came alongside, he was all ready with his boat to come on board. He did so, and at first I kept out of sight to hear what he would say. He was followed up the side by his amiable son. Captain Toplift received him on deck, and he looked around him, saying, "I believe I am right. I was afraid I had made more mistakes than one. I believe you are in the free trade?"

"Yes," replied Toplift, "we are."

"Yes, I thought so, captain, but I expected to meet another schooner which is very like to yours, and is also in the trade. I made my signal to her, as, when she has any thing to get rid of, why I take it off her hands. Perhaps you may have something of the kind which is not exactly safe to show,—church-plate and the like. I pay ready money—that's my plan."

As it afterwards appeared, Madam, this scoundrel had been in the free trade, or pirating, himself for many years, but he had taken an opportunity of walking off with a large sum of money belonging to the pirate crew, and with this money he had purchased his property in Virginia and the brig which he now commanded. Although he did not follow up the free trade any more, he had made arrangements with a pirate captain whom he met at Port Royal to meet them at the back of the island and receive such articles as the pirate might want to turn into cash, by which he, of course, took care to secure large profits.

This he had done several times, and as he sold his cargo at Port Royal for dollars, he had always cash to pay for what the pirate wished to get rid of. But he had now run into the lion's jaws, for not only were I and the Portuguese on board to denounce him as a robber, but, what was still more unfortunate for him, three of the pirate's crew, whom he had swindled out of their property, were also on board of us, and recognized him immediately.

As Captain Toplift knew how I had been treated by him, he thought it was time he should be confronted with me, and to his question as to whether there was any thing to dispose of, he replied to him, "You must put that question to the captain. There he is."

The fellow turned to me; he looked at me, stared, and was mute, when his cub of a boy cried out, "As sure as a gun it's he, father, and no mistake."

"Oh, you imp of Satan, you know me, do you?" replied I. "Yes, it is he. Send all the men aft."

The men came fast enough. They were only waiting till I had spoken to them to come and give information against him.

"Now, my lads," said I, "this is a scoundrel who fell in with some of us when we were in distress, after we had lost our vessel. Instead of behaving as one seaman does to another, he robbed us of all we had, and turned us adrift naked to be killed by the Indians. Of all, I and the two Portuguese you took on board about four months back are the only three left: the others perished. The one who was with me was burnt to death by the Indians, and I narrowly escaped. I leave you to decide what this scoundrel merits."

"But there is more against him, captain," said the men, and then four of them stepped out and declared that he had run away with the money belonging to the crew of which they were a part, and that the sum he had stolen amounted to 25,000 dollars.

"What have you to say for yourself?" said I to him.

"That I have been a cursed fool to be caught as I have been."

"What will they do, father?"

"Hang us, I suppose," replied he.

"Captain Toplift," said I, "I do not command this vessel, and I shall therefore leave you to decide upon the fate of this miscreant;" and having said that, I was going below to the cabin, when the captain of the Transcendant's son ran to me, and said, "I want to speak to you, Sir, when you are alone."

"What are you after, Peleg?" cried his father.

"I'm going to save your life, father, if I can," replied he.

"You'll be clever if you do that, boy," said the man, sneeringly.

I allowed the boy to follow me down into the cabin, and then asked him what he had to say.

"I have that to tell you which is of more value than the lives of a hundred boys like me."

"Boys like you? Why I thought it was to save your father's life that you came down, Sir?"

"Pooh!" said he, "let him hang; he was born for a halter. I am come to save my own life. I only said that to gammon him."

"You're a hopeful youth," said I; "and pray what is that you can tell me that will save your own neck from the halter?"

"That which will save your own, most likely," replied the boy, "and tit-for-tat's all fair."

"Well, let's hear it, then," replied I.

"No, not unless you promise. I can swing, if need be, as well as father, but I'd rather not, 'cause I know where all his money is hidden."

"I can't make any promise," replied I.

"Then I can't tell," replied he, "so I may e'en go on deck and tell father that I cannot manage it;" and as he said the latter part of this speech, the undaunted little villain actually laughed at the idea of gammoning his father, as he termed it.

Train up a child in the way he should go, and he will not depart from it, is mostly true; but it is more certain that if you train a child up in the way that he should not go, he will be a more true disciple. Could there be a more decided proof of the above than the behaviour of this young villain? but his father had made him so, and thus was he rewarded.

"Stop," said I, for I had reflected whether, after all, there were any grounds for hanging the boy, and come to a conclusion that a jury would have probably acquitted him. "Stop," said I; "you say that what you can tell is of the greatest consequence."

"And becomes of more consequence every minute that passes," replied he. "I will tell you every thing, and let you into father's secrets. I peach upon father altogether."

"Well, then," replied I, "if what you have to disclose proves important, I will do all I can to save your life, and I have no doubt that I shall be able so to do."

"No more have I," replied he, "or I would not have come to you. Now then, father came to the back of the island to do a little business with a pirate schooner, as he said just now; and he has very often done it before, as he said just now; but father did not tell you all. When we were in Port Royal, father went to the captain of a king's vessel who is there, having been sent to put down the pirates if possible, and he offered this captain of the king's ship, for a certain sum, to put our friends that we exchange with into his hands."

"What, betray his friend the pirate?"

"Yes, father agreed that he would come round as he has done this day, and would contrive to chaffer and bargain with him and keep him so late in the bay that the king's ship should come upon him all of a sudden and take him, and this was father's intention, only you have pinned him. The king's ship will be round that point in two hours or thereabouts, so if you are found here you will be taken and hanged as sure as I ain't hanged yet. Now ain't this important news, and worth all I asked for it?"

"It certainly is, if it is true, boy."

"Oh, I'll prove it, for I always goes with father, and he trusts me with every thing. I saw the paper signed. The king's ship is called the Vestal, and the captain who signed the paper, signed it Philip Musgrave."

"Indeed," said I, turning away, for I did not wish the boy to perceive my emotion at this announcement. I recovered myself as soon as I could, and said to him, "Boy, I will keep my promise. Do you stay below, and I will go on deck and plead for your life."

"Mayn't I go on deck for a bit?" said he.

"What, to wish your father good-bye? No, no, you had better spare yourself and him that painful meeting."

"No, I don't want to wish him good-bye; I'll wait till it's over, only I never did see a man hanged, and I have a curiosity to have just a peep."

"Out, you little monster," cried I, running up on deck, for the information I had received was too important not to be immediately taken advantage of.

"Well, captain, has the boy saved his father's life?"

"No," replied I, in a loud voice.

"Then, up he goes," said the men, for the halter had been round his neck and run out to the yard-arm for some time, and the men had manned the rope, only awaiting my return on deck. In a second, the captain of the Transcendant was swinging in the air, and certainly if ever a scoundrel merited his fate, it was that man. Shortly afterwards I turned round, and there was the young hopeful looking at his father's body swinging to and fro with the motion of the vessel.

I looked in vain for a tear in his eye; there was not a symptom of emotion. Seeing me look sternly at him, he hastened down below again.

"My lads," said I to the men, who were all on deck, "I have received intelligence of that importance that I recommend that we should cut that vessel adrift, and make sail without a moment's loss of time."

"What, not plunder?" cried the men, looking at the Transcendant.

"No, not think of it, if you are wise."

At this reply all of the men exclaimed that "that would not do"—"that plunder they would"—that "I was not the captain of the vessel," and many more expressions showing how soon a man may lose popularity on board of a pirate vessel.

"I gave my opinion, my men, and if you will hear why I said so—"

"No, no, out boats," cried they all, and simultaneously ran to lower down the boats, for it was now calm, that they might tow the schooner alongside of the Transcendant.

"You might as well talk to the wind as talk to them when there is plunder to be obtained," said Toplift to me in a low tone.

"Come down with me," said I, "and I will tell you what I have heard."

"Ain't they going to plunder the brig?" said Master Peleg, when we came down; "I know where father's dollars are," and up he ran on deck.

I made a short remark upon the depravity of the boy, and then informed Captain Toplift of what he had told me.

"If you had told them, they would not have paid attention to you. The boat's crew who came with the captain have told them that there is money on board, and all authority is now at an end."

"Well," replied I, "I believe that the boy has told the truth."

"And what do you mean to do?"

"Remain below quietly, if I am allowed," replied I.

"But I cannot," said he; "they would throw me overboard."

"Make as bad a fight of it as you can," replied I.

"That I will," said Captain Toplift, "and with so superior a force opposed, we cannot stand long. But I must tell you where you must be."

"Where?" replied I.

"At the entrance of the magazine, for as sure as we stand here they will blow up the vessel rather than be taken. Not all of them, but two or three I know are determined so to do, and resolute enough to do it. My pistols are there. You have only to open this door, and you are in the magazine passage. See," said he, opening the door, "there is the scuttle where they hand the powder up."

"I will be on the watch, depend upon it; and, Captain Toplift, if the schooner is taken, and I am alive, you may have no fear for yourself."

"Now let us go on deck again."

"I will follow you," replied I.

"I am alone at last, thank Heaven!" said I to myself. "What a position am I in, and how much will be in suspense before twenty-four hours are over. My own brother here, not ten miles perhaps from me, commanding the vessel which will attack this on which I am on board. That they will take us I have no doubt; but what risk do I run—of death by shot, or by their blowing up the vessel in spite of me, or of no quarter being given. Well, I wish it were decided. At all events, I am long supposed dead, and I shall not be recognized among the heaps of bodies."

I then went to the locker and took out my duck frock and trowsers, determining that I would, if I were killed, be killed in those clothes, and be thrown overboard as a common seaman. I then went on deck, for I had heard the grating of the sides of the two vessels and knew that they were in contact.

All was uproar and confusion on board of the Transcendant, but there was nobody on board the schooner except Toplift and myself. I cannot say that I never saw such a scene, for I had seen quite as bad on board of a privateer. The common seamen, as well as the soldiers, when let loose to plunder, are like maniacs. In half an hour they had broken open every thing, cut the crew to pieces, found out the hoard of dollars, which was shown them by young Peleg, who tried for his share, but for so doing received a chop with a cutlass, which cut off his right ear, and wounded him severely on the shoulder; but his right arm was not disabled, and while the man that cut him down was bending over a heap of dollars, which took both hands to lift them, the boy ran his knife deep into the man's side, who fell mortally wounded. The rush for the dollars thus at the mercy of the rest was so great, that Peleg was not minded, and he crept away and came on board the schooner. We saw that he was bleeding profusely, but we asked no questions, and he went down the ladder forward.

"What has that young villain been after?" said Toplift.

"I presume he has been quarrelling for plunder, and considered that he had a greater right to his father's money than anybody else."

Among other plunder the people had not forgotten to look for liquor, and an hour had not passed before three-fourths of the men were more or less intoxicated. They had found plenty of good clothes, and were strutting about with gold-laced waistcoats and embroidered coats over their dirty frocks. The uproar increased every minute, when Toplift, who had been looking out with the glass, exclaimed, "There she is, by all that's sacred!"

I caught the glass out of his hand, and found it was the king's ship. She was a large flush vessel, apparently of eighteen or twenty guns, just opening from the point, and not seven miles from us. We were still becalmed, and she was bringing the wind down with her, so that to escape appeared impossible.

"Now, what shall we do?" said Captain Toplift; "shall we allow her to come down upon us and say nothing to the men, or shall we point out the danger, and persuade them to come on board and prepare?"

"You must do as you please," replied I, "I am indifferent which. It will be dark in another hour, and she will not be down by that time. I would rather avoid fighting, and get away from the schooner quietly if I could, but that I fear is impossible now."

"Well, I must go on board of the brig and let them know, for if they find it out themselves, they will throw us overboard."

Captain Toplift then went on board of the brig, and calling to the men who were still sober, told them that there was a king's ship coming down upon them not seven miles off. This had the effect of putting an end to the confusion and noise of a great portion of the men, who hastened on board of the schooner, but others, who were intoxicated, were with difficulty persuaded to return.

At last they were all got on board, and the schooner, clear from the brig, was made ready for action; but Toplift was obliged to make some alteration in the stationing of the men, as those who were to hand up the powder were all of them tipsy. By the time that the schooner was ready, and the breeze had come down to her, the corvette was not more than three miles from us; but it was quite dark, for there is no twilight in those parts. We consulted what course we should take to avoid her, if possible, and agreed that we would stand in shore and pass her if we possibly could. We knew that, if seen, we were then certain to be obliged to fight; but if not seen, we might escape.

We then shifted the helm and bore up across her bows, but we had not steered in this direction more than a quarter of an hour, when the Transcendant was perceived to be on fire, having been fired by the drunken men before they left her, and soon afterwards she burst out into flames that threw a strong light to a great distance, discovering the corvette to us at two miles' distance, and of course exposing us to the corvette, who immediately altered her course for us. We had therefore only to fight, and the crew, being most of them in liquor, declared that they would fight till the schooner sunk under them. In a quarter of an hour, the corvette being close to us, and standing stem on, we opened our fire, raking her masts and yards, and then I went down below. I had changed my clothes for the duck trowsers and shirt which I had swum on board in, and I now remained quietly in the cabin. A few minutes afterwards the corvette opened her fire, and the shot did great execution. The cries of the wounded and the shouts of the tipsy men were mingled together, but the crew of the schooner tired with great rapidity, and sustained the unequal conflict most gallantly.

After a time some men darted down into the cabin. I was then at the door which led to the magazine passage, and busied myself handing up the powder, as it secured me from observation, and it was supposed that I was one of the crew sent down for that duty.

The men roared out, "Where is the captain? We want him to fight the ship. Toplift is an old fool, and don't know what he is about."

I made no reply, but with my back towards them continued to hand up the powder, and, having changed my dress, they did not recognize me, so they rushed upon deck again.

The corvette was now alongside of the schooner, pouring in her broadsides with fatal execution, the shot passing in every direction through her, so that there was as much danger below as on deck, and it was evident that the schooner could not oppose them much longer. Still they continued to fire with great resolution, being now sobered into more steadiness than at first. But by this time more than half the men were killed and wounded, and our guns were encumbered with the wreck and bodies. I heard them, at the very time that a crashing broadside was poured in by the corvette, cry out, "Avast firing for a moment and clear the decks."

They did so, and having thrown the bodies overboard and cut away the spars and rigging which had fallen, so as to enable them to work their guns, during which time three broadsides were poured in, they remanned their guns, and fought with as much spirit as before. I could not help admiring the courage of the scoundrels, for nothing could exceed it; but resistance was useless, further than they preferred dying at their guns to being hanged on the gibbet.

But the shouts of the pirates and the reports of the guns gradually decreased. The men were swept away by the enemy's fire, and the guns were one by one disabled. The schooner's sides were torn out, and the water poured in below so fast that it was rising to the magazine. I heard a cry of boarders, and the striking of the two vessels together, and then there was a rush down below, when a man came aft to the magazine passage. It was the fellow whom I had struck down on the quarter-deck and had put into irons.

"Come along," said he, to the others; "we'll send the corvette and ourselves all to the devil together. Out of the way there."

"Stand back," said I.

"Stand back," replied he, pointing his pistol down to the magazine.

I threw up his arm, and the pistol went off, striking the beams above.

"Blast you," cried he, "whoever you are; but I've another," and he attempted to draw it out of his belt, but before he could effect it I blew out his brains with the pistol which I had ready cocked in my hand.

His companions started back, and I pointed my second pistol at them, saying, "The man who comes forward this way dies."

As I said this the crew of the corvette, who had cleared the decks, charged down below, and the pirates ran away and secreted themselves. Perceiving them coming forward, I said to them, "Put a guard over the magazine; they have attempted to blow up the vessel already."

"Who are you?" said an officer.

"A prisoner," replied I.

"Well, then, lead him on deck, and stay here, two of you; shut down the magazine scuttle and keep guard."

"Thank Heaven," thought I, "that this affair is over," as a seaman led me by the collar on deck, and handed me to others, who took me on board of the corvette.

We were all put down below that remained out of the schooner's crew, about eighteen or nineteen, not more, and I was glad to find Captain Toplift, although badly wounded with a splinter, was among the number. We remained there huddled together with a guard of ten men over us for more than an hour, when we heard, from the conversation on deck, that the schooner had sunk. After that the guns of the corvette were secured, and the men had an allowance of liquor served out to them, the watch was called, and all was quiet during the remainder of that night. For some time I was in a state of excitement from the events of the last twenty-four hours crowding so rapidly, but by degrees I became calm. I asked one of the guard who was the captain of the corvette.

"What's that to you, you gallows-bird?" replied he.

"A civil question might receive a civil reply," answered I.

"So it might with any one else; but if you don't want the hilt of my cutlass down your throat, you will hold your tongue."

But I did not require to repeat the question, as I heard one of the officers on deck say, "It's Captain Musgrave's orders."

This satisfied me, and I lay down with the rest of the prisoners, waiting for daybreak, when I trusted my troubles would soon be over. They were all sound asleep. Strange that men who knew that they would be hanged In a few days, if not the next morning, should sleep so sound—but so it was—while I, who had every reason to believe that my sufferings were over, could not sleep one wink. I was, however, fully satisfied with my own castle-buildings during the night, and more satisfied when it was again broad daylight. After the men had had their breakfast, an order came down for all the prisoners to be brought on deck. We were led up under guard, and made to stand all in a row. I looked round for my brother, but he was not on deck. It was the first lieutenant who was there, with several other officers, and the clerk, with pen and ink, to take down the names of the prisoners.

"Who was the captain of this vessel?" said the first lieutenant.

"I was, Sir," replied Toplift; "but much against my will."

"Oh, of course; every man was on board of her against his will. What is your name? Put him down, Mr. Pearson. Any other officers alive?"

"No, Sir," replied Toplift.

The name of every man was then asked and put down, and it so happened that I was the last; for, anxious to see my brother, I had walked up the foremost, and they had commenced their interrogation at the other end of the line.

"What is your name?"

"I do not belong to the schooner," replied I.

"Of course not; you dropped on board her from the clouds."

"No, Sir, I did not; I swam on board of her to save my life."

"Then you went out of the frying-pan into the fire, I reckon, my good fellow, for your life is forfeited now."

"I rather think not, Sir," replied I. "On the contrary, I feel it is quite safe."

"Give us none of your jaw, my good fellow, but give us your name."

"Certainly, Sir, if you require it. My name is Alexander Musgrave, Sir," replied I; "I am the elder brother of your captain, Philip Musgrave, and I will thank you to go into his cabin and inform him that I am here."

The first lieutenant and officers started back in astonishment, and so did Captain Toplift and the pirates. The first lieutenant hardly knew whether to consider it as a pretence on my part or not, and was undecided how to act, when Captain Toplift said, "I do not know whether the gentleman is as he says, but this is certain, and all the men can prove it as well as myself, that he did swim on board, as he said, to escape from the Indians, and that he has never joined the crew. They offered to make him captain in my stead, and he positively refused it."

"Yes," said all the pirates; "that's true enough."

"Well, Sir," replied the first lieutenant, "I will certainly carry your message."

"To make all certain," replied I, "I will write my name on a slip of paper for you to take in to the captain. He knows my signature."

I did so, and the first lieutenant took the paper, and went into the cabin. In a minute he returned, and requested me to follow him. I did so, and in another minute I was in the arms of my brother. For some time we neither of us could speak. At last Philip said, "That you are alive and well, let me thank Heaven. I have considered you as dead, and so have others; and to find you on board of a pirate—on board of a vessel which I have been riddling with shot, any one of which might have caused your death. Thank God I was ignorant that you were on board, or I never could have done my duty. I will not ask how you came on board of this vessel, for that must be the end of your narrative, which I must have from the time that you first left Rio, and afterwards in detail the whole from the time that you left the Coast."

"Then they received my letters from Rio?"

"Yes, after imagining you were dead, they were rejoiced by those letters; but I will not anticipate my story, nor will I now ask for yours; it is sufficient at present that you are alive, my dear Alexander, and once more in my arms."

"Let me ask one question," replied I.

"I know what it will be. She was in good health, but suffering much in mind from having no account of you. Her father and others have reasoned with her, and painted the impossibility of your being in existence, as the xebeque you sailed in had never been heard of. She still adheres in the opinion that you are alive, and will not abandon the hope of seeing you again; but hope deferred has paled her cheek even more pale than it usually is, and she evidently suffers much, for her life is wrapped in yours. Now having told you this, you must come into my state-room, and allow me to enable you to appear as my brother ought to do. I do not think that there is any difference in our size now, although there was when we last parted."

"Many thanks, Philip, but before I adonize my outward man I should wish to satisfy my inward cravings; and, to tell you the truth, I'm so hungry from not having broken my fast for nearly twenty-four hours, that if you could order something to eat while you are looking out the clothes, I should feel in no small degree grateful."

Philip rang the bell and ordered the steward in bring something to eat and drink, and after eating I occupied a quarter of an hour more in getting rid of the pirate smoke and dirt, and putting on one of his uniforms, for he had no other clothes on board, when I came out, looking not at all like a pirate.

"Now, then," said Philip, "before we have our tete-a-tete, come out with me, and let me introduce you to the officers as my brother."

I went out with him, and was formally introduced. The first lieutenant apologized for his rough speech, but I told him that there was no occasion for any apology, as I had no doubt that I looked very much like a pirate at the time.

"More than you do now. Sir, at all events," replied he.

"By the bye, brother," said I, "there is one man among the prisoners who, although compelled to act as captain by the men, is no pirate. His conduct I will explain to you. May I request him to be kindly treated? His name is Toplift—and also two Portuguese, my former companions."

"Certainly," replied Philip, "your word is sufficient. Let those persons be released and taken care of," said he to the first lieutenant. "We will wait for the particulars by-and-by."

I remained on deck about ten minutes, and then returned to the cabin with my brother.

"What is this which you have left on my dressing-table?" said Philip, surveying the leather bag which contained the diamond.

"That, Philip," said I, "is a portion of my narrative, and eventually may prove a very important one. I don't think that I can afford to make you a present of it, but I shall see."

"It does not look very valuable," replied he.

"At all events, do me the favour to lock it up carefully," replied I.

"Well, if you are in earnest I will," he said, and having put it in a drawer and locked it up, he said, "Now, Alexander, let me have your history."

I commenced, and told him all that the reader is now acquainted with. Dinner broke off my narrative, and as soon as it was over I resumed it. When I had finished, he expressed his astonishment, and asked many questions. Among others he said, "And that little wretch Peleg, the captain of the Transcendant's son, is he on board?"

"I have not seen him," replied I, "and therefore presume that he was not able to move, and went down in the schooner." Which was the case.

"You have indeed told me a strange tale," said Philip, "and you have had some extraordinary escapes. You must have a charmed life, and you appear to have been preserved to prove that Amy's persuasion of your being still alive was just and well-founded; and now it is my turn to talk, and yours to listen. When I left you as lieutenant of Captain Levee's schooner, we very shortly afterwards had an action with a Spanish vessel of very superior force, for she mounted thirty guns. Having no chance with her, from her superior weight of metal, we threw ourselves on her bow and boarded. The Spaniards did not relish this kind of close fighting, and gave us immediate possession of their deck. Captain Levee, when he brought in his prize, was appointed to a frigate of thirty-six guns, and I followed him as his first lieutenant. We had another combat with a vessel of equal force, in which we were the victors, and I was sent in the prize. Captain Levee wrote very kindly in my behalf, and I was made a captain, and given the command of a small brig. But let me first finish with Captain Levee. He captured a galleon, which gave him a large fortune, and he then gave up the command of his ship, and went on shore, telling me in a letter that he had hitherto squandered away all his money, but now that he had got so much, he intended to keep it. He has done so, for he has purchased a large landed property, is married, and I believe, is very happy."

"He deserves it," replied I; "and long may he be so."

"Well, to continue. I was sent out on this station, and having information that the vessel which you are now on board of was at anchor in a bay close to the Havannah, I ran in and reconnoitred. She hoisted Spanish colours, and I did the same. It fell calm, and I lay about four miles outside. I was mistaken for another Spanish vessel, and the captain of this vessel, or, to speak correctly, the Spanish captain of the Spanish brig, came out to see me, and did not discover his mistake till he was on board. I detained him and his boat's crew. It continued calm till the evening, when the breeze sprung up, and I put the head of the brig right for the bay, as if I were going in to anchor. The breeze being light, it was dark before I got in and alongside this vessel. They were completely surprised, for they imagined that their captain was dining with his old friend, and having no idea that we were any thing but Spanish, had not the least preparation for resistance. We had possession of her decks before they could seize their arms, and I brought her out without any one knowing that she had been captured. On my arrival, the admiral gave me the command of her, which I have held for nine months; but she is very defective, and I was ordered home, and should have sailed, had it not been that that scoundrel, the captain of the Transcendant, gave me the information which induced me to come round to the back of the island. Little did I think what happiness awaited me. So much for myself. Do not think me an egotist for speaking of myself, I am only clearing away the less important information to arrive at that which most interests you. The Amy arrived safe with her valuable cargo. The captain reported that he had remained at the rendezvous until blown off by a sort of hurricane, and that finding himself a long way off, he considered, when the gale had ceased, that he was not justified in remaining with so valuable a cargo, but was bound to make the best of his way to Liverpool. He was right, and his conduct was approved of by Mr. Trevannion, who looked for your arrival every hour. At last a week passed away and you did not make your appearance, and great alarm was entertained for your safety. The weeks grew into months, and it was supposed that you had been upset in the same hurricane which had driven the Amy so far off from her rendezvous. The poor girl, Whyna, was, as you may suppose, kindly received by Mr. Trevannion and his daughter, and soon gained their affection; but she pined for your return, and when she was told that you were dead she never recovered it. The climate certainly did not agree with her, and she contracted a very bad cough during the winter, but I believe from my heart that it was your loss which affected her the most severely. After she had been about eighteen months in England, she fell into a consumption and died."

"Poor Whyna!" said I, with a sigh.

"Alexander," said Philip, "perhaps it was all for the best, for that poor girl loved you sincerely, and supposing that she was now still alive and living with Miss Trevannion, and on your return your marriage should (which of course, unless Heaven decrees otherwise, it will) take place, that poor creature would have been very unhappy; and although the idea of her being a rival to Miss Trevannion is something which may appear absurd to us, yet she had the same feelings, and must have endured the same pangs as any other woman, let her colour be what it may. I think, therefore, that her removal was a blessing and a happy dispensation. I saw Mr. Trevannion and his daughter but once previous to their receiving your letters from Rio acquainting them with your misfortunes and happy deliverance from slavery. They were both very dejected, and Mr. Trevannion talked of retiring from business, and living upon his property near Liverpool. As I corresponded regularly with Amy, I learnt that he had done so, and had just wound up his affairs when your letters arrived from Rio with an order on the Portuguese Exchequer for a considerable sum. I hardly need say that the joy occasioned by this intelligence was great. Amy recovered her good looks, and her father bitterly lamented his having retired from business, as he had wished to have made the whole over to you. The money you remitted from Rio he considered as your own, and he also set apart your share of the business from the time that you were admitted as a partner. He was not aware that you could carry a diamond of such immense value about your person, exposed to the view of every one; among Indians, settlers, and pirates. That my delight was equal to theirs you will, I am sure, give me credit to believe; and although I was obliged to sail for the West Indies, every day I anticipated receiving a letter informing me of your arrival in England. Judge then my distress at first receiving letters stating that you had not been heard of for three months after your leaving Rio, and expressions of fear that some accident had happened, and then month after month many more and more desponding letters, in which Mr. Trevannion plainly stated that the xebeque must have foundered; and only Amy clinging to the hope that you were still alive. I acknowledge that I considered you dead, and you may therefore imagine my surprise and delight when your signature on the slip of paper proved that you were not only in existence, but on board of the same vessel with me."

Such was the narrative of my brother Philip in return for mine, and it was late at night when we parted. Oh! how sincerely did I pray that night, thanking Heaven for all its mercies, and entreating that the cup might not be again dashed from my lips. When I arose the next morning I found that Philip was on deck, and I followed him.

"We shall soon be in Port Royal with this wind," said he, "and I hope to find the admiral still there."

I had some conversation with the officers, and then went below to see Toplift. He was in his hammock, for he had much fever and suffered from his wound, but the surgeon said that he would do well.

"Toplift," said I, "you must keep your mind at ease, for my brother has promised me that you shall not be tried with the others, and has no doubt that when he explains the whole to the admiral you will be thanked for your service."

"Thanked!" said Toplift, "if I am not hanged, I shall be fortunate enough."

"No fear of that," replied I, "so keep your mind easy and get well as fast as you can."

"Well then, Sir, you have saved my life, at all events, for had you not come on board, no one would have ever spoken for me, or believed that I was not a pirate in heart like all the others, except the two Portuguese."

"If necessary, they will be evidence in your favour, but I do not think any evidence will be required except mine, and that will be sufficient with the admiral. I promised you that you should never want the means of getting your livelihood, and I repeat that promise now."

"Thank you, Sir," replied he, and I then left him and went up to the cabin to breakfast.

The following day we were at anchor at Port Royal; my brother reported what had occurred, and the admiral sent for all the pirate prisoners except Toplift, whose case was so fully represented by me and my brother, that he was permitted to go at large, and to take a passage home to England free of expense if he wished it. It is hardly necessary to say that Toplift accepted this offer, and remained in the vessel with me. The two Portuguese were also liberated. Three days after our arrival we sailed for England, and after a quick run of between five and six weeks, we anchored at Spithead. My brother could not leave his ship, and I therefore requested him to write to Liverpool stating that he had intelligence of me, and that I was alive; that I had been wrecked and had fallen into the hands of the Indians near the English settlements in Virginia, and that I had escaped and was, he believed, at James Town.

I considered it wise to make a communication like this at first, as too sudden an announcement might be dangerous to one in so weak a state of health as Philip stated my Amy to be from the letter he had received from her father. I remained with him at Portsmouth until the reply came. Mr. Trevannion wrote and told Philip that his communication had, as it were, raised his daughter from the grave—as she had fallen into a state of profound melancholy, which nothing could remove—that he had very cautiously introduced the subject, and by degrees told her what was reported, and eventually when he found that she was more composed, that he had put Philip's letter into her hand.

He concluded that he trusted that I would arrive, and soon, for if any accident was now to happen to me it would be the death of his daughter, who had not strength enough left to bear another reverse. At my request Philip then wrote that he had received a letter from a brother officer stating that I was well and safe on board, and that they would be in England a few days after the receipt of the letter.

Leaving directions to Philip how to proceed, I now went off to London, and having fitted myself out with every requisite of dress and toilet, I called upon a celebrated Jew diamond merchant and showed him my diamond, requesting that he would weigh it and then estimate its value. He was much astonished at the sight of such a stone, as well he might be, and after weighing it and examining it, he pronounced it worth L47,000, provided a purchaser could be found for an article of such value.

I told him that I was not a merchant, and could not be travelling about to show the diamond to crowned heads, but if he would give me a liberal price for it, I would abate a great deal, that he might dispose of it to his own advantage. He requested that he might call upon me with two of his friends, that they might see the diamond and consult with him; and then he would give me an answer. We fixed the time for twelve o'clock on the following day, and I took my leave.

The next day he called at the time appointed, accompanied by two gentlemen of his own persuasion. They weighed the stone again very carefully, examined it by the light of a powerful lamp to ascertain its water, and to see if there were any flaws in it, calculated the reduction of weight which would take place in cutting it, and, after a consultation, I was offered L38,000. I considered this an offer that I ought not to refuse, and I closed with them. The next day the affair was settled. I received money and bills on government to the amount, and wrote to Philip telling him what had taken place. Strange that from two slaves in the mines I should have received such valuable legacies; from poor Ingram a diamond worth so much money, and from the other Englishman a tattered Bible which made me a sincere Christian—a legacy in comparison of which the diamond was as dross.

Philip replied to my letter congratulating me on the sale of the diamond, and informing me that to his letter he had received a reply containing so satisfactory an account of Amy's restored health, that he had written to tell them that I had arrived safe in England, and would be very soon with them. He recommended my going immediately, as the anxiety and suspense would be very injurious to Amy's health. I therefore made every arrangement for my departure, purchased horses, and procured four stout serving men, well armed, to accompany me, and wrote a letter, which I sent by an express courier, stating the exact day which I expected to arrive at Mr. Trevannion's country seat.

I waited in London two days to wind up all my affairs, and to give time for the express to arrive before me, as I intended to travel very fast. My stay in London was the occasion of an important discovery. I was at the coffee-house at St. Paul's, and was talking with one of Captain Levee's officers, with whom I had picked up an acquaintance, when on his calling me by the name of Musgrave, a pinched-up sort of looking personage, in a black suit, who was standing at the bay-window, turned round, and coming up to me said, "Sir, as a stranger I must apologize, but hearing your friend call you by the name of Musgrave, may I venture to ask if you are any relative to Sir Richard Musgrave, Baronet, who lived in Cumberland?"

"Lived, did you say, Sir? Is he then dead?"

"Yes, Sir; he has been dead these last seven months, and we are looking out for his heir and cannot find him."

"I knew the family very well," replied I, "for I am connected with it. His eldest son, Richard, of course, must be his heir, as all the estates are entailed."

"His eldest son, Richard, Sir, is dead. We have authenticated documents to prove that; and, moreover, his second son, Charles, is also dead. He came home very ill and died, not at his father's house, but at the house of one of his tenants on the estate. It is his third son, Alexander Musgrave, whom we seek, and seek in vain. He is now the heir to the baronetcy and estates, but we have lost all clue to him. We understand that a Captain Philip Musgrave is just arrived from the West Indies. He is, we presume, the fourth son. But until we can find out what has become of Alexander Musgrave, and whether he is dead or alive, we cannot act. I have written this day to Captain Musgrave, requesting any information he can give, but have received no answer. I presume, Sir, it is useless to inquire of you?"

"Not exactly, Sir, for I am the Alexander Musgrave you seek."

"Indeed, Sir, but what proof have you of your identity to offer to us."

"The evidence of my brother, Captain Philip Musgrave, in whose ship I have just arrived from the West Indies; that his answer to your letter will be satisfactory enough, I have no doubt. Here is a letter from him to me, in which you see he addresses me 'my dear Alexander,' and concludes with 'your affectionate brother, Philip Musgrave.'"

"This is indeed, satisfactory, Sir," replied the gentleman, "and I have only to receive an answer from your brother to make all right and clear. Allow me, Sir, to congratulate you upon your accession to the title and property. I presume you will have no objection, as soon as the necessary proofs are obtained, to accompany me down to Cumberland, where I doubt not you will be recognized by many."

"Of that, Sir, I have not the slightest doubt," replied I, "but I cannot go down with you to Cumberland at present. I leave London for Liverpool the day after to-morrow on important business, and cannot disappoint the parties."

"Well, Sir, it must indeed be an important business which will prevent you from taking possession of a title and L4,000 per annum," replied he; "but here is my address, and I hope I shall hear from you as soon as possible, as I shall remain in town till I can bring the heir down with me."

The man now looked as if he doubted me. He could not imagine that I could neglect the taking possession of the estate for any other business, and it did appear singular, so I said to him, "Sir, I have been long out of England, and am affianced to a young lady who lives near Liverpool. She has been waiting to hear from me for some time, and I have sent an express to say that I will be with her on such a day. I cannot disappoint her, and, I tell you more, that, without I possess her, the possession of the title and estates will give me very little pleasure."

"Sir," replied he, making a bow, "I honour your sentiments, and she must be a worthy lady who can inspire such feelings. I only hope that you will not remain too long at Liverpool, as London is expensive, and I am anxious to return to Cumberland."

I then wished the gentleman farewell, and went home to my lodgings. I had given him my address in case he wanted to see me before my departure.

The next day I received a letter from Philip inclosing the one written to him by this gentleman, whose name was Campbell, and who was a lawyer. Philip told me what reply he had made to him, and congratulated me on my accession to the title and estates. Almost an hour afterwards Mr. Campbell called upon me with Philip's letter, which he declared to be highly satisfactory, and sufficient in any court of justice.

"But," said he, "I would wish to ask you a few particulars."

"And I also would wish to make a few inquiries, Mr. Campbell. I have heard your name in my youth, although I cannot recollect ever having seen you."

"I was the confidential adviser of your father at one time, Sir," replied he, "but latterly all intercourse had ceased; it was not until he was on his death-bed, and fully repented the foolish step which he had taken, and the injustice he had been guilty of, that he sent for me, much to the annoyance of Lady Musgrave, who would have prevented me from coming into the house even when I arrived, had it not been for the servants, who disobeyed her."

"And my sisters, Sir, Janet and Mabel?"

"Are both well, and have grown up very fine girls. Your father destroyed the deed by which Lady Musgrave was to have had a large jointure upon the estate, and she is now entirely dependent upon you for what she may receive. When do you expect to be able to come up from Liverpool?"

"I can hardly say, but of course as soon as I can."

"Well, Sir, my own affairs will require my presence in the metropolis for a month. In the meantime, although I should have preferred to have gone down with you to Faristone Hall, and have at once put you in possession, yet affairs may remain as they are (for every thing is under seal, and Lady Musgrave has been compelled to remove), till it suits your convenience. I shall, however, write to let them know that you have been found, and will soon come down and take possession."

Mr. Campbell then asked me a few questions, to which I replied satisfactorily, and then for the first time he saluted me with my title, saying, "Sir Alexander, I will now take my leave."

The next morning I set off on my journey, and travelled with as much speed as the horses would permit. I arrived on the fifth day at Mr. Trevannion's seat, about nine miles from Liverpool. As I rode up the avenue of chestnut trees, I perceived a female form looking out from an upper window, which soon afterwards made a precipitate retreat. I alighted, and was received at the door in the embrace of Mr. Trevannion, who welcomed me with tears, and taking me by the hand he led me into an apartment where I found my adored Amy, who threw herself into my arms and wept as if her heart would break; but her sobs were the sobs of joy, and when she did raise her head and look at me, it was with eyes beaming with pleasure, and with smiles upon her beautiful lips. I clasped her to my bosom, and felt that I was more than repaid for all I had suffered, and my heart was throbbing with gratitude and love.

It was some time before we could sufficiently compose ourselves to enter into lengthened conversation, and then Amy inquired what had occurred to me to occasion such a lengthened absence. We sat down on a sofa, and with Amy on one side of me and her father on the other, I entered into my narrative.

"And so you have been married since we last heard from you?" said Amy, smiling, when I had finished my history.

"Yes," replied I, "I have been; but I hope I shall treat my second wife a little better than I did my first."

"I hope so too," replied Amy; "but I have great fear that your Virginian mistress may come over and claim you."

"I do not think that likely. From the Indians having followed me to the beach, they must have fallen in with her."

"And what do you think became of her?"

"Of course I cannot exactly say; but I presume she died gallantly, and fought with her axe to the last."

That evening I had a long conversation with Mr. Trevannion. He told me what he had done with the money, which he considered as mine, and I put into his care the sum I had received for the diamond. I then spoke to him about our marriage, and requested that it might not be postponed.

"My dear Musgrave," said he, "my daughter's happiness so depends upon her union with you, that I can only say I am willing that it should take place to-morrow. For yourself you know that I have the highest esteem, and that you must be convinced of when I have consented to the match without even making inquiry as to your family and connections. Now, however, is the time that I should wish to have some information about them."

"My dear Sir, if you will only make inquiries, you will find that the family of Musgrave is one of the most highly connected in the north, and that the head of it is a or was Sir Richard Musgrave, Baronet, of Faristone Hall, in Cumberland. I am a near relative of his, as I can satisfactorily prove."

"That is sufficient," replied Mr. Trevannion. "I shall leave you to plead your cause with Amy to-morrow; so now, good night."

The following day I told Amy that, since my arrival in England, I had heard of the death of my father, and that it was necessary that I should go to the north, as family affairs required my presence.

"Are you serious?" replied she.

"Never more so in my life. My presence is absolutely necessary, and I made arrangements with the legal adviser of our family that I would be there in less than a month."

"It is a long journey," said Mr. Trevannion, "and how long to you stay?"

"That I cannot possibly say," replied I; "but not longer than I can help."

"I do not think that I shall let you go," said Amy; "you are not to be trusted out of sight. You are so born for adventure that you will not be heard of again for another two years."

"Such is my misfortune, I grant," replied I; "but, Amy, you look pale and thin; change of air would do you much service. Suppose you and your father were to come with me. Indeed, Mr. Trevannion, I am in earnest. At this delightful time of the year nothing would prove so beneficial to her health; and, Amy, then, you know, that I shall not be out of your sight."

"I should like the tour very much," replied she, "but—"

"I know what you would say. You do not like the idea of travelling with me as Amy Trevannion. You are right. Then let me propose that you travel with me as Amy Musgrave."

"I second that proposal," said Mr. Trevannion.

"Consent, Amy, let our marriage be quite private. I know you will prefer that it should be so, and so will your father. You will then travel with me as my wife, and we never shall part again."

Amy did not reply till her father said, "Amy, it is my wish that it should be so. Recollect it will be the last time that you have to obey your father, so do not annoy me by a refusal."

"I will not, my dear father," replied Amy, kissing him. "Your last command I obey with pleasure. And oh! if I have sometimes been a wilful girl, forgive me every thing at this moment."

"My dear child, I have nothing to forgive. May God bless you; and, Mr. Musgrave," said he, putting her hand in mine, "if she proves as good a wife as she has been a daughter, you now receive a treasure," and I felt that the old man stated what was true.

It was arranged that the marriage should take place on that day week, and that it should be quite private. There was no parade of bridal clothes; in fact, no one was invited, and it was at my request quite a secret marriage. A clergyman had been engaged to perform the ceremony, and, on the day appointed, I received the hand of my Amy in the drawing-room, and in the presence only of Humphrey and two other confidential servants.

After the ceremony was over, the clergyman requested me to come with him into the adjoining room, and said, it was necessary that he should give a certificate of the marriage, which must be inserted in the parish register. He had called me aside for that purpose, that I might give him my exact name, profession, &c.

"My name is Alexander Musgrave, as you have heard when you married us."

"Yes, I know that, but I must be particular. Have you no other name? Is that the name that you have been and will be in future known by?"

"Not exactly," replied I; "I have been known by that name, but in future shall not be."

"Then what am I to say?"

"You must say, Sir Alexander Musgrave, Baronet, of Faristone Hall, Cumberland."

"Good," said he, "that is what I required; and the lady your wife, has she any other name but Amy?"

"None, I believe."

The clergyman then wrote out the marriage certificate, and signed it, taking a copy for registry, and we returned into the drawing-room.

"Here is the certificate of marriage, Madam," said he; "it ought to be in the care of the lady, and therefore, my lady, I hand it over to you."

"My lady is much obliged to you for your kindness," replied Amy, for she thought that the clergyman was only facetious.

She held the certificate in her hand folded as it had been given her for some time. At last curiosity, or, perhaps, having nothing else to do, induced her to open it and read it. I was at this time talking with the clergyman, and presenting him with a handsome douceur for his trouble; but perceiving her to open the certificate, I watched her countenance. She read and started. I turned away as if not observing her. She then went up to her father and desired him to read it.

The old gentleman took out his glasses, and it was amusing to see the way in which he looked at his daughter with his spectacles falling off his nose. He then came up, and pointing to the certificate said, "Pray how am I in future to address my daughter?"

"As Amy, I trust, Sir, unless you wish to scold her, and then you must call her Lady Musgrave. I am, my dear Sir, as the certificate states, Sir Alexander Musgrave, of Faristone, with a handsome property descended to me. I did not know it till I arrived in London, and if I concealed it from you till now, it was only that my Amy should have the satisfaction of proving to me that she wedded me in pure disinterestedness of affection."

"It was very, very kind of you, Alexander, to do as you have done, and I thank you sincerely for it."

"And now, my dear Amy, you understand why I wished you to come with me to Cumberland, that you may take possession of your future abode, and assume that position in society which you will so much grace. I trust, Sir," continued I, "that you will not part from us, and that one roof will always cover us, as long as Heaven thinks fit to spare our lives."

"May God bless you both," replied Mr. Trevannion, "I cannot part with you, and must follow."

About half an hour after this, I requested Amy and Mr. Trevannion to sit by me, as I had now another narrative to give them, which was an explanation why and how it was that they found me in the position that they had done; in short, what were the causes that induced me, and afterwards my brother Philip, to quit our parental roof, and to come to the resolution of fighting our own way in the world. It was as follows:

"Sir Richard Musgrave, my father, married a young lady of high connection, a Miss Arabella Johnson, and with her lived, I have every reason to believe, a very happy life for nearly twenty-five years, when it pleased God to summon her away. I have a good recollection of my mother; for although I lived with my brother at a private tutor's, about six miles off, I was continually at home, and she did not die till I was nearly sixteen; and I can only say, that a more elegant, amiable, and truly virtuous woman, as I believe, never existed. By this marriage my father had four sons and two daughters; Richard, the eldest; Charles, the second; myself, the third; and Philip, the fourth; and my sisters, who came last, were named Janet and Mabel. At the time of my mother's death, my eldest brother was serving with the army, which he had entered from a love of the profession, although, as heir to the baronetcy and estates, which are a clear 4,000l. per annum, he of course had no occasion for a profession. My second brother, Charles, being of an adventurous turn, had gone out to the East Indies in a high position, as servant to the Company. I was still at home, as well as Philip, who is four years my junior, and my sisters were of course at home. I pass over my regrets at my mother's death, and will now speak more of my father. He was a good-tempered, weak man, easily led, and although, during my mother's lifetime, he was so well led that it was of little consequence, the case proved very different at her death. For a year my father remained quiet in the house, content with superintending his improvements on his property, and he had lately become infirm, and had given up the hounds and rural sports in general. The dairy was one of his principal hobbies; and it so happened that a young girl, the daughter of a labourer, was one of the females employed in that part of the establishment. She was certainly remarkably good-looking; her features were very small, and she did not show that robust frame which people in her class of life generally do. She was about seventeen years old, slight in figure, and certainly a person that you would not pass without making some commendatory remark upon her good looks and modest appearance. She was not, however, what she appeared; she was beyond measure cunning and astute, and, as it proved, inordinately ambitious. My father, who was naturally of an amorous disposition, was attracted by her, and very soon was constantly in the dairy, and his attentions were so marked, that the other servants used to call her 'my lady.' A few months after my father had shown a preference for this girl, he was seized with his first attack of gout. It did not last him long, and in six weeks he was about again, and resumed his attentions to her. Philip and I, who were at our tutor's, when we came home, heard from others what was going on, and very foolishly played the girl many tricks, and annoyed her as much as we could. After we returned, my father had another fit of the gout, and when he was confined to his room, he desired this girl to be sent for to attend upon him. I cannot say what took place, but this is certain, that my father's unfortunate passion became so great, and I presume the girl's ambition rose in proportion, that about six months afterwards, this daughter of a menial was raised to the dignity of Lady Musgrave—she being at that time about eighteen, and my father verging on seventy.

"When this ill-assorted and disgraceful connection was known, the gentry and aristocracy of the county refused any longer to visit my father, and all communication was broken off. In a short time the ascendency which this artful girl gained over the old man was most wonderful. He lived but in her sight, and knew no will but hers. Her father and family were removed to a good house in the neighbourhood, and gave themselves all the airs of gentlepeople. The good old steward was dismissed, and her father established in his room, although the man could not read or write, and was wholly unfit for the office. The expense which she launched out into, by his permission, was excessive. New liveries, new coaches, diamonds, and dresses fit for the court—indeed, every kind of luxury that could be conceived, and much greater than my father could afford. She now showed herself in her true colours; vindictive and tyrannical to excess, she dismissed all the old servants, and oppressed all those to whom she owed a grudge; yet my poor father could see nothing but perfection in her. It was not till four months after the marriage that Philip and I came home, and our new step-mother had not forgotten our treatment of her. She treated us with great harshness, refused our taking meals at my father's table, and ordered us the coarsest fare; and when we complained to my father, denied every thing that we said. As we found that we could not induce our father to listen to us or to believe us, we tried all we could, and retaliated and annoyed her as much, if not more, than she annoyed us, by talking of her mean origin and her former occupation; we defied her, and, in so doing, we ruined ourselves; for, after a useless struggle on my father's part, he gave way to her imperious commands, and sending for me, told me that I had become such a reprobate that I was no longer a son of his. He threw me a purse, telling me that it was all I might expect from him, and that I was instantly to leave the house, and never show my face in it any more. I replied, with more spirit than respect, that it was high time that the son of a gentleman and lady should leave the house, when such lowborn creatures were installed in it as the mistress. My father, in a rage, flung his crutch at my head, and I left the room.

"As I went out I met her in the passage; she had evidently been listening to what had passed, and she was full of exultation.

"'It is your turn now, you she-devil,' said I, in my rage; 'but wait till my father dies. You shall go a-milking again.'

"I do not mean to defend my conduct, but I was then no seventeen, and that must be my excuse. I little thought, when I said so, that it would be from my hands that she would have to receive bounty, but so it is, as Mr. Campbell informs me that my father destroyed, previous to his death, the papers which he had signed to secure her a large jointure on the estate. I set off with my wardrobe and the purse of twenty guineas, which my father had given me, and having a desire to see the world, I went on board of a merchant vessel. Six months afterwards, when we were at Liverpool, I went on board of a privateer. The remainder of my history you are already acquainted with.

"As soon as she had wreaked her vengeance upon me, my brother Philip was the next; but he was too young at that time to be turned adrift, so she put it off till the time should come, irritating and weaning my father from him by every means in her power. Three years afterwards she succeeded in having him dismissed, also, and you know how I found him out. All these circumstances were very well known in the neighbourhood and to our own relations; and one only, my aunt, called upon my father, and, after a long conversation, my father consented that my sisters should go away, and remain under her charge. My step-mother's violent temper, her exactions, her imperious conduct, which was now shown even towards him, with what my aunt had advanced, had to a certain extent opened my father's eyes. He perceived that she had no other view but her own aggrandisement, and that she cared little for him. Her repeated attempts, however, to make him sign in her favour, in case of his death, were successful, and it was not till after her conduct had alienated him from her, and he deplored the loss of his children, that he committed the deed to the flames. About three years after I had quitted the house, my eldest brother, who had information of all that had passed, and who remained in the army because he declared that he never would go home till after his father's death, was killed by a cannon-ball; and my second brother died of a fever about a year ago, when resident at the court of a native prince. I had heard nothing of these deaths, or of my father's, until my arrival in London; of course, I was most anxious to go down to Cumberland, if it were only to undo the wickedness which this woman had done, and to make amends to those whom she had so cruelly treated. I do not feel any spirit of revenge, but I feel that justice demands it of me."

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