“Not I, sir. She's heading for the brig as straight as
she can go. This wind favours us on both legs; and it's
lucky it does, for't will be hard on upon daylight afore we
are alongside of her. You'll want half an hour of dark,
at the very least, to get a good start of the Swash, in case
she makes sail a'ter you.”

“Straight for the brig!—what have we to do with the
brig? Our course is for Key West, unless it might be
better to run down before the wind to the Dry Tortugas
again, and look for the sloop-of-war. Duty, and perhaps
my own safety, tells me to let Captain Mull know what
Spike is about with the Swash; and I shall not hesitate a
moment about doing it, after all that has passed. Give me
the helm, Jack, and let us ware short round on our heel.”

“Never, master maty—never. I must go back to the
brig. Miss Rose, there, knows that my business is with
Stephen Spike, and with him only.”

“And I must return to my aunt, Harry,” put in Rose,
herself. “It would never do for me to desert my aunt, you
know.”

“And I have been taken from that rock, to be given up
to the tender mercies of Spike again?”

This was said rather in surprise, than in a complaining
way; and it at once induced Rose to tell the young man
the whole of their project.

“Never, Harry, never,” she said firmly. “It is our intention
to return to the brig ourselves, and let you escape in the
boat afterwards. Jack Tier is of opinion this can be done
without much risk, if we use proper caution and do not
lose too much time. On no account would I consent to
place you in the hands of Spike again—death would be
preferable to that, Harry!”

“And on no account can or will I consent to place you
again in the hands of Spike, Rose,” answered the young
man. “Now that we know his intentions, such an act
would be almost impious.”

“Remember my aunt, dear Harry. What would be her
situation in the morning, when she found herself deserted
by her niece and Biddy—by me, whom she has nursed and
watched from childhood, and whom she loves so well.”

“I shall not deny your obligations to your aunt, Rose,

[figure description] Page 066.[end figure description]

and your duty to her under ordinary circumstances. But
these are not ordinary circumstances; and it would be
courting the direst misfortunes, nay, almost braving Providence,
to place yourself in the hands of that scoundrel
again, now that you are clear of them.”

“Spike's a willian!” muttered Jack.

“And my desartin' the missus would be a sin that no
praste would overlook aisily,” put in Biddy. “When
Miss Rose told me of this v'y'ge that she meant to make in
the boat wid Jack Tier, I asked to come along, that I
might take care of her, and see that there was plenty of
wather; but ill-luck befall me if I would have t'ought of
sich a thing, and the missus desarted.”

“We can then run alongside of the brig, and put Biddy
and Jack on board of her,” said Mulford, reflecting a moment
on what had just been said, “when you and I can
make the best of our way to Key West, where the means
of sending government vessels out after the Swash will
soon offer. In this way we can not only get our friends out
of the lion's jaws, but keep out of them ourselves.”

“Reflect a moment, Harry,” said Rose, in a low voice,
but not without tenderness in its tones; “it would not do
for me to go off alone with you in this boat.”

“Not when you have confessed your willingness to go
over the wide world with me, Rose—with me, and with
me only?”

“Not even then, Harry. I know you will think better
of this, when your generous nature has time to reason with
your heart, on my account.”

“I can only answer in your own words, Rose—never.
If you return to the Swash, I shall go on board with you,
and throw defiance into the very teeth of Spike. I know
the men do not dislike me, and, perhaps, assisted by Señor
Montefalderon, and a few friends among the people, I can
muster a force that will prevent my being thrown into the
sea.”

Rose burst into tears, and then succeeded many minutes,
during which Mulford was endeavouring, with manly tenderness,
to soothe her. As soon as our heroine recovered
her self-command, she began to discuss the matter at issue
between them more coolly. For half an hour everything

[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

was urged by each that feeling, affection, delicacy, or distrust
of Spike could well urge, and Mulford was slowly getting
the best of the argument, as well he might, the truth
being mostly of his side. Rose was bewildered, really
feeling a strong reluctance to quit her aunt, even with so
justifiable a motive, but principally shrinking from the appearance
of going off alone in a boat, and almost in the
open sea, with Mulford. Had she loved Harry less, her
scruples might not have been so active, but the consciousness
of the strength of her attachment, as well as her fixed
intention to become his wife the moment it was in her
power to give him her hand with the decencies of her sex,
contributed strangely to prevent her yielding to the young
man's reasoning. On the subject of the aunt, the mate
made out so good a case, that it was apparent to all in the
boat Rose would have to abandon that ground of refusal.
Spike had no object to gain by ill-treating Mrs. Budd; and
the probability certainly was that he would get rid of her
as soon as he could, and in the most easy manner. This
was so apparent to all, that Harry had little difficulty in
getting Rose to assent to its probability. But there remained
the reluctance to go off alone with the mate in a
boat. This part of the subject was more difficult to manage
than the other; and Mulford betrayed as much by the
awkwardness with which he managed it. At length the
discussion was brought to a close by Jack Tier suddenly
saying,—

“Yonder is the brig; and we are heading for her as
straight as if she was the pole, and the keel of this boat was a
compass. I see how it is, Miss Rose, and a'ter all, I must
give in. I suppose some other opportunity will offer for
me to get on board of the brig ag'in, and I'll trust to that.
If you won't go off with the mate alone, I suppose you'll
not refuse to go off in my company.”

“Will you accompany us, Jack? This is more than I
had hoped for! Yes, Harry, if Jack Tier will be of the
party, I will trust my aunt to Biddy, and go with you to
Key West, in order to escape from Spike.”

This was said so rapidly, and so unexpectedly, as to take
Mulford completely by surprise. Scarce believing what he
heard, the young man was disposed, at first, to feel hurt,

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

though a moment's reflection showed him that he ought to
rejoice in the result let the cause be what it might.

“More than I had hoped for!” he could not refrain from
repeating a little bitterly; “is Jack Tier, then, of so much
importance, that his company is thought preferable to
mine!”

“Hush, Harry!” said Rose, laying her hand on Mulford's
arm, by way of strengthening her appeal. “Do not
say that. You are ignorant of circumstances; at another
time you shall know them, but not now. Let it be enough
for the present, that I promise to accompany you if Jack
will be of our party.”

“Ay, ay, Miss Rose, I will be of the party, seeing there
is no other way of getting the lamb out of the jaws of the
wolf. A'ter all, it may be the wisest thing I can do, though
back to the Swash I must and will come, powder or no
powder, treason or no treason, at the first opportunity. Yes,
my business is with the Molly, and to the Molly I shall return.
It's lucky, Miss Rose, since you have made up your
mind to ship for this new cruise, that I bethought me of
telling Biddy to make up a bundle of duds for you. This
carpet-bag has a change or two in it, and all owing to my
forethought. Your woman said `Miss Rose will come
back wid us, Jack, and what's the use of rumplin' the
clothes for a few hours' sail in the boat;' but I knew womankind
better, and foreseed that if master mate fell in
alongside of you ag'in, you would not be apt to part company
very soon.”

“I thank you, Jack, for the provision made for my comfort;
though some money would have added to it materially.
My purse has a little gold in it, but a very little,
and I fear you are not much better off, Harry. It will be
awkward to find ourselves in Key West penniless.”

“We shall not be quite that. I left the brig absolutely
without a cent, but foreseeing that necessity might make
them of use, I borrowed half a dozen of the doubloons from
the bag of Señor Montefalderon, and, fortunately, they are
still in my pocket. All I am worth in the world is in a
bag of half-eagles, rather more than a hundred altogether,
which I left in my chest, in my own state-room aboard the
brig.”

[figure description] Page 069.[end figure description]

“You'll find that in the carpet-bag too, master mate,”
said Jack, coolly.

“Find what, man—not my money, surely?”

“Ay, every piece of it. Spike broke into your chest
this a'ternoon, and made me hold the tools while he was
doing it. He found the bag, and overhauled it—a hundred
and seven half, eleven quarter, and one full-grown eagle,
was the count. When he had done the job, he put all
back ag'in, a'ter giving me the full-grown eagle for my
share of the plunder, and told me to say nothing of what
I had seen. I did say nothing, but I did a good bit of
work, for, while he was at supper. I confiserated that bag,
as they call it—and you will find it there among Miss
Rose's clothes, with the full-grown gentleman back in his
nest ag'in.”

“This is being not only honest, Tier,” cried Mulford,
heartily, “but thoughtful. One-half that money shall be
yours for this act.”

“I thank'e, sir; but I'll not touch a cent of it. It came
hard, I know, Mr. Mulford; for my own hands have smarted
too much with tar, not to know that the seaman `earns
his money like the horse.' ”

“Still it would not be `spending it like an ass,' Jack,
to give you a portion of mine. But there will be other opportunities
to talk of this. It is a sign of returning to the
concerns of life, Rose, that money begins to be of interest
to us. How little did we think of the doubloons, or half-eagles,
a few hours since, when on the wreck!”

“It was wather that we t'ought of then,” put in Biddy.
“Goold is good in a market, or in a town, or to send back
to Ireland, to help a body's aged fader or mudder in comfort
wid; but wather is the blessed thing on a wrack!”

“The brig is coming quite plainly into view, and you
had better give me the helm, Jack. It is time to bethink
us of the manner of approaching her, and how we are to
proceed when alongside.”

This was so obviously true, that everybody felt disposed
to forget all other matters, in order to conduct the proceedings
of the next twenty minutes, with the necessary prudence
and caution. When Mulford first took the helm,
the brig was just coming clearly into view, though still

[figure description] Page 070.[end figure description]

looking a little misty and distant. She might then have
been half a league distant, and would not have been visible
at all by that light, but for the circumstance that she had
no back-ground to swallow up her outlines. Drawn against
clouds, above which the rays of the moon were shed, her
tracery was to be discerned, however, and, minute by
minute, it was getting to be more and more distinct, until
it was now so plainly to be seen as to admonish the mate
of the necessity of preparation in the manner mentioned.

Tier now communicated to the mate his own proposed
manner of proceeding. The brig tended to the trades, the
tides having very little influence on her, in the bight of the
reef where she lay. As the wind stood at about east south-east,
the brig's stern pointed to about west north-west,
while the boat was coming down the passage from a direction
nearly north from her, having, as a matter of course,
the wind just free enough to lay her course. Jack's plan
was to pass the brig to windward, and having got well on
her bow, to brail the sail, and drift down upon her, expecting
to fall in alongside, abreast of the fore-chains, into
which he had intended to help Biddy, and to ascend himself,
when he supposed that Mulford would again make
sail, and carry off his mistress. To this scheme the mate
objected that it was awkward, and a little lubberly. He
substituted one in its place that differed in seamanship, and
which was altogether better. Instead of passing to windward,
Mulford suggested the expediency of approaching
to leeward, and of coming alongside under the open bow-port,
letting the sheet fly and brailing the sail, when the
boat should be near enough to carry her to the point of
destination without further assistance from her canvass.

Jack Tier took his officer's improvement on his own
plan in perfect good part, readily and cheerfully expressing
his willingness to aid the execution of it all that lay in his
power. As the boat sailed unusually well, there was barely
time to explain to each individual his or her part in the approaching
critical movements, ere the crisis itself drew
near; then each of the party became silent and anxious,
and events were regarded rather than words.

It is scarcely necessary to say that Mulford sailed a boat
well. He held the sheet in his hand, as the little craft

[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

came up under the lee-quarter of the brig, while Jack stood
by the brail. The eyes of the mate glanced over the hull
of the vessel to ascertain, if possible, who might be stirring;
but not a sign of life could he detect on board her. This
very silence made Mulford more distrustful and anxious,
for he feared a trap was set for him. He expected to see
the head of one of the blacks at least peering over the bulwarks,
but nothing like a man was visible. It was too late
to pause, however, and the sheet was slowly eased off, Jack
hauling on the brail at the same time; the object being to
prevent the sail's flapping, and the sound reaching the ears
of Spike. As Mulford used great caution, and had previously
schooled Jack on the subject, this important point
was successfully achieved. Then the mate put his helm
down, and the boat shot up under the brig's lee-bow. Jack
was ready to lay hold of one of the bow-sprit shrouds, and
presently the boat was breasted up under the desired port,
and secured in that position. Mulford quitted the stern-sheets,
and cast a look in upon deck. Nothing was to be
seen, though he heard the heavy breathing of the blacks,
both of whom were sound asleep on a sail that they had
spread on the forecastle.

The mate whispered for Biddy to come to the port. This
the Irishwoman did at once, having kissed Rose, and
taken her leave of her previously. Tier also came to the
port, through which he passed, getting on deck with a view
to assist Biddy, who was awkward, almost as a matter of
course, to pass through the same opening. He had just
succeeded, when the whole party was startled, some of them
almost petrified, indeed, by a hail from the quarter-deck
in the well-known, deep tones of Spike.

“For'ard, there?” hailed the captain. Receiving no
answer, he immediately repeated, in a shorter, quicker
call, “Forecastle, there?”

“Sir,” answered Jack Tier, who by this time had come
to his senses.

“Who has the look-out on that forecastle?”

“I have it, sir—I, Jack Tier. You know, sir, I was to
have it from two 'till daylight.”

“Ay, ay, I remember now. How does the brig ride to
her anchor?”

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

“As steady as a church, sir. She's had no more sheer
the whole watch than if she was moored head and starn.”

“Does the wind stand as it did?”

“No change, sir. As dead a trade wind as ever blowed.”

“What hard breathing is that I hear for'ard?”

“'T is the two niggers, sir. They've turned in on
deck, and are napping it off at the rate of six knots.
There's no keepin' way with a nigger in snorin'.”

“I thought I heard loud whispering, too, but I suppose
it was a sort of half-dream. I'm often in that way now-a-days.
Jack!”

“Sir.”

“Go to the scuttle-butt and get me a pot of fresh water—
my coppers are hot with hard thinking.”

Jack did as ordered, and soon stood beneath the coach-house
deck with Spike, who had come out of his state-room,
heated and uneasy at he knew not what. The captain
drank a full pint of water at a single draught.

“That's refreshing,” he said, returning Jack the tin-pot,
“and I feel the cooler for it. How much does it want
of daylight, Jack?”

“Two hours, I think, sir. The order was passed to me
to have all hands called as soon as it was broad day.”

“Ay, that is right. We must get our anchor and be off
as soon as there is light to do it in. Doubloons may melt
as well as flour, and are best cared for soon when cared
for at all.”

“I shall see and give the call as soon as it is day. I
hope, Captain Spike, I can take the liberty of an old shipmate,
however, and say one thing to you, which is this—
look out for the Poughkeepsie, which is very likely to be
on your heels when you least expect her.”

“That's your way of thinking, is it, Jack. Well, I
thank you, old one, for the hint, but have little fear of that
craft. We've had our legs together, and I think the brig
has the longest.”

As the captain said this, he gaped like a hound, and
went into his state-room. Jack lingered on the quarter-deck,
waiting to hear him fairly in his berth, when he made
a sign to Biddy, who had got as far aft as the galley, where
she was secreted, to pass down into the cabin, as silently

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

as possible. In a minute or two more, he moved forward,
singing in a low, cracked voice, as was often his practice,
and slowly made his way to the forecastle. Mulford was
just beginning to think the fellow had changed his mind,
and meant to stick by the brig, when the little, rotund figure
of the assistant-steward was seen passing through the
port, and to drop noiselessly on a thwart. Jack then moved
to the bow, and cast off the painter, the head of the boat
slowly falling off under the pressure of the breeze on that
part of her mast and sail which rose above the hull of the
Swash. Almost at the same moment, the mate let go the
stern-fast, and the boat was free.

It required some care to set the sail without the canvas
flapping. It was done, however, before the boat fairly took
the breeze, when all was safe. In half a minute the wind
struck the sail, and away the little craft started, passing
swiftly ahead of the brig. Soon as far enough off, Mulford
put up his helm and wore short round, bringing the boat's
head to the northward, or in its proper direction; after
which they flew along before the wind, which seemed to
be increasing in force, with a velocity that really appeared
to defy pursuit. All this time the brig lay in its silence
and solitude, no one stirring on board her, and all, in fact,
Biddy alone excepted, profoundly ignorant of what had just
been passing alongside of her. Ten minutes of running
off with a flowing sheet, caused the Swash to look indistinct
and hazy again; in ten minutes more she was swallowed
up, hull, spars, and all, in the gloom of night.

Mulford and Rose now felt something like that security,
without the sense of which happiness itself is but an uneasy
feeling, rendering the anticipations of evil the more
painful by the magnitude of the stake. There they sat,
now, in the stern-sheets by themselves, Jack Tier having
placed himself near the bows of the boat, to look out for
rocks, as well as to trim the craft. It was not long before
Rose was leaning on Harry's shoulder, and ere an hour
was past, she had fallen into a sweet sleep in that attitude,
the young man having carefully covered her person with a
capacious shawl, the same that had been used on the wreck.
As for Jack, he maintained his post in silence, sitting with
his arms crossed, and the hands thrust into the breast of

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

his jacket, sailor fashion, a picture of nautical vigilance.
It was some time after Rose had fallen asleep, that this
singular being spoke for the first time.

“Keep her away a bit, maty,” he said, “keep her away,
half a point or so. She's been travelin' like a racer since
we left the brig; and yonder's the first streak of day.”

“By the time we have been running,” observed Mulford,
“I should think we must be getting near the northern side
of the reef.”

“All of that, sir, depend on it. Here's a rock close
aboard on us, to which we're comin' fast—just off here,
on our weather-bow, that looks to me like the place where
you landed a'ter that swim, and where we had stowed ourselves
when Stephen Spike made us out, and gave chase.”

“It is surprising to me, Jack, that you should have any
fancy to stick by a man of Spike's character. He is a
precious rascal, as we all can see, now, and you are rather
an honest sort of fellow.”

“Do you love the young woman there, that's lying in
your arms, as it might be, and whom you say you wish to
marry.”

“The question is a queer one, but it is easily answered.
More than my life, Jack.”

“Well, how happens it that you succeed, when the world
has so many other young men who might please her as
well as yourself.”

“It may be that no other loves her as well, and she has
had the sagacity to discover it.”

“Quite likely. So it is with me and Stephen Spike. I
fancy a man whom other folk despise and condemn. Why
I stand by him is my own secret; but stand by him I do
and will.”

“This is all very strange, after your conduct on the
island, and your conduct to-night. I shall not disturb your
secret, however, Jack, but leave you to enjoy it by yourself.
Is this the rock of which you spoke, that we are now
passing?”

“The same; and there's the spot in which we was
stowed when they made us out from the brig; and hereaway,
a cable's length, more or less, the wreck of that
Mexican craft must lie.”

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

“What is that rising above the water, thereaway, Jack;
more on our weather-beam?”

“I see what you mean, sir; it looks like a spar. By
George! there's two on 'em; and they do seem to be the
schooner's masts.”

Sure enough! a second look satisfied Mulford that two
mast-heads were out of water, and that within a hundred
yards of the place the boat was running past. Standing
on a short distance, or far enough to give himself room,
the mate put his helm down, and tacked the boat. The
flapping of the sail, and the little movement of shifting over
the sheet, awoke Rose, who was immediately apprized of
the discovery. As soon as round, the boat went glancing
up to the spars, and presently was riding by one, Jack Tier
having caught hold of a topmast-shroud, when Mulford let
fly his sheet again, and luffed short up to the spot. By
this time the increasing light was sufficiently strong to render
objects distinct, when near by, and no doubt remained
any longer in the mind of Mulford about the two mast-heads
being those of the unfortunate Mexican schooner.

“Well, of all I have ever seen I've never see'd the like
of this afore!” exclaimed Jack. “When we left this here
craft, sir, you'll remember, she had almost turned turtle,
laying over so far as to bring her upper coamings under
water; now she stands right side up, as erect as if docked!
My navigation can't get along with this, Mr. Mulford, and
it does seem like witchcraft.”

“It is certainly a very singular incident, Jack, and I have
been trying to come at its causes.”

“Have you succeeded, Harry?” asked Rose, by this
time wide awake, and wondering like the others.

“It must have happened in this wise. The wreck was
abandoned by us some little distance out here, to windward.
The schooner's masts, of course, pointed to leeward, and
when she drifted in here, they have first touched on a
shelving rock, and as they have been shoved up, little by
little, they have acted as levers to right the hull, until the
cargo has shifted back into its proper berth, which has
suddenly set the vessel up again.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, “all that might have happened
had she been above water, or any part of her above

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

water; but you'll remember, maty, that soon after we left
her she went down.”

“Not entirely. The wreck settled in the water no faster
after we had left it, than it had done before. It continued
to sink, inch by inch, as the air escaped, and no faster
after it had gone entirely out of sight than before; not as
fast, indeed, as the water became denser the lower it got.
The great argument against my theory, is the fact, that
after the hull got beneath the surface, the wind could not
act on it. This is true in one sense, however, and not in
another. The waves, or the pressure of the water produced
by the wind, might act on the hull for some time after we
ceased to see it. But the currents have set the craft in
here, and the hull floating always, very little force would
cant the craft. If the rock were shelving and slippery, I
see no great difficulty in the way; and the barrels may
have been so lodged, that a trifle would set them rolling
back again, each one helping to produce a change that
would move another. As for the ballast, that, I am certain,
could not shift, for it was stowed with great care. As the
vessel righted, the air still in her moved, and as soon as
the water permitted, it escaped by the hatches, when the
craft went down, as a matter of course. This air may
have aided in bringing the hull upright by its movements
in the water.”

This was the only explanation to which the ingenuity
of Mulford could help him, under the circumstances, and
it may have been the right one, or not. There lay the
schooner, however, in some five or six fathoms of water,
with her two topmasts, and lower mast-heads out of the
element, as upright as if docked! It may all have occurred
as the mate fancied, or the unusual incident may have
been owing to some of the many mysterious causes which
baffle inquiry, when the agents are necessarily hidden from
examination.

“Spike intends to come and look for this wreck, you
tell me, Jack; in the hope of getting at the doubloons it
contains?” said Mulford; when the boat had lain a minute
or two longer, riding by the mast-head.

“Ay, ay, sir; that's his notion, sir, and he'll be in a
great stew, as soon as he turns out, which must be about

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

this time, and finds me missing; for I was to pilot him to
the spot.”

“He'll want no pilot now. It will be scarcely possible
to pass anywhere near this and not see these spars. But
this discovery almost induces me to change my own plans.
What say you, Rose? We have now reached the northern
side of the reef, when it is time to haul close by the wind,
if we wish to beat up to Key West. There is a moral certainty,
however, that the sloop-of-war is somewhere in the
neighbourhood of the Dry Tortugas, which are much the
most easily reached, being to leeward. We might run
down to the light-house by mid-day, while it is doubtful if
we could reach the town until to-morrow morning. I
should like exceedingly to have five minutes conversation
with the commander of the Poughkeepsie.”

“Ay, to let him know where he will be likely to fall in
with the Molly Swash and her traitor master, Stephen
Spike,” cried Jack Tier. “Never mind, maty; let 'em
come on; both the Molly and her master have got long
legs and clean heels. Stephen Spike will show 'em how
to thread the channels of a reef.”

“It is amazing to me, Jack, that you should stand by
your old captain in feeling, while you are helping to thwart
him, all you can, in his warmest wishes.”

“He's a willian!” muttered Jack—“a reg'lar willian is
Stephen Spike!”

“If a villain, why do you so evidently wish to keep him
out of the hands of the law? Let him be captured and punished,
as his crimes require.”

“Men's willians, all round,” still muttered Jack.
“Hark'e, Mr. Mulford, I've sailed in the brig longer than
you, and know'd her in her comeliest and best days—when
she was young, and blooming, and lovely to the eye, as the
young creature at your side—and it would go to my heart
to have anything happen to her. Then, I've know'd Stephen
a long time, too, and old shipmates get a feelin' for
each other, sooner or later. I tell you now, honestly, Mr.
Mulford, Captain Adam Mull shall never make a prisoner
of Stephen Spike, if I can prevent it.”

The mate laughed at this sally, but Rose appeared
anxious to change the conversation, and she managed to

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

open a discussion on the subject of the course it might be
best to steer. Mulford had several excellent reasons to urge
for wishing to run down to the islets, all of which, with a
single exception, he laid before his betrothed. The concealed
reason was one of the strongest of them all, as usually
happens when there is a reason to conceal, but of that
he took care to say nothing. The result was an acquiescence
on the part of Rose, whose consent was yielded
more to the influence of one particular consideration than
to all the rest united. That one was this: Harry had
pointed out to her the importance to himself of his appearing
early to denounce the character and movements of the
brig, lest, through his former situation in her, his own conduct
might be seriously called in question.

As soon as the matter was determined, Jack was told to
let go his hold, the sheet was drawn aft, and away sped the
boat. No sooner did Mulford cause the little craft to keep
away than it almost flew, as if conscious it were bound to
its proper home, skimming swiftly over the waves, like a
bird returning eagerly to its nest. An hour later the party
breakfasted. While at this meal, Jack Tier pointed out
to the mate a white speck, in the south-eastern board, which
he took to be the brig coming through the passage, on her
way to the wreck.

“No matter,” returned the mate. “Though we can see
her, she cannot see us. There is that much advantage in
our being small, Rose, if it do prevent our taking exercise
by walking the deck.”

Soon after, Mulford made a very distant sail in the north-western
board, which he hoped might turn out to be the
Poughkeepsie. It was but another speck, but its position
was somewhat like that in which he had expected to meet
the sloop-of-war. The two vessels were so far apart that
one could not be seen from the other, and there was little
hope that the Poughkeepsie would detect Spike at his toil
on the wreck; but the mate fully expected that the ship
would go into the anchorage, among the islets, in order to
ascertain what had become of the schooner. If she did not
go in herself, she would be almost certain to send in a
boat.

The party from the brigantine had run down before the

[figure description] Page 079.[end figure description]

wind more than two hours before the light-house began to
show itself, just rising out of the waves. This gave them
the advantage of a beacon, Mulford having steered hitherto
altogether by the sun, the direction of the wind, and the
treading of the reef. Now he had his port in sight, it being
his intention to take possession of the dwelling of the
light-house keeper, and to remain in it, until a favourable
opportunity occurred to remove Rose to Key West. The
young man had also another important project in view,
which it will be in season to mention as it reaches the moment
of its fulfillment.

The rate of sailing of the light-house boat, running before
a brisk trade wind, could not be much less than nine
miles in the hour. About eleven o'clock, therefore, the
lively craft shot through one of the narrow channels of the
islets, and entered the haven. In a few minutes all three
of the adventurers were on the little wharf where the light-house
people were in the habit of landing. Rose proceeded
to the house, while Harry and Jack remained to secure the
boat. For the latter purpose a sort of slip, or little dock,
had been made, and when the boat was hauled into it, it
lay so snug that not only was the craft secure from injury,
but it was actually hid from the view of all but those who
stood directly above it.

“This is a snug berth for the boat, Jack,” observed the
mate, when he had hauled it into the place mentioned,
“ and by unstepping the mast, a passer-by would not suspect
such a craft of lying in it. Who knows what occasion
there may be for concealment, and I'll e'en do that
thing.”

To a casual listener, Harry, in unstepping the mast,
might have seemed influenced merely by a motiveless impulse;
but, in truth, a latent suspicion of Jack's intentions
instigated him, and as he laid the mast, sprit and sail on
the thwarts, he determined, in his own mind, to remove
them all to some other place, as soon as an opportunity for
doing so unobserved should occur. He and Jack now followed
Rose to the house.

The islets were found deserted and tenantless. Not a
human being had entered the house since Rose left it, the
evening she had remained so long ashore, in company with

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

her aunt and the Señor Montefalderon. This our heroine
knew from the circumstance of finding a slight fastening
of the outer door in the precise situation in which she had
left it with her own hands. At first a feeling of oppression
and awe prevailed with both Harry and Rose, when they
recollected the fate of those who had so lately been tenants
of the place; but this gradually wore off, and each soon got
to be more at home. As for Jack, he very coolly rummaged
the lockers, as he called the drawers and closets of
the place, and made his preparations for cooking a very delicious
repast, in which callipash and callipee were to be
material ingredients. The necessary condiments were
easily enough found in that place, turtle being a common
dish there, and it was not long before steams that might
have quickened the appetite of an alderman filled the
kitchen. Rose rummaged, too, and found a clean tablecloth,
plates, glasses, bowls, spoons, and knives; in a
word, all that was necessary to spread a plain but plentiful
board. While all this was doing, Harry took some fishing-tackle,
and proceeded to a favourable spot among the rocks.
In twenty minutes he returned with a fine mess of that
most delicious little fish that goes by the very unpoetical
name of “hog-fish,” from the circumstance of its giving a
grunt not unlike that of a living porker, when rudely drawn
from its proper element. Nothing was now wanting to
not only a comfortable, but to what was really a most epicurian
meal, and Jack just begged the lovers to have patience
for an hour or so, when he promised them dishes
that even New York could not furnish.

Harry and Rose first retired to pay a little attention to
their dress, and then they joined each other in a walk.
The mate had found some razors, and was clean shaved.
He had also sequestered a shirt, and made some other little
additions to his attire, that contributed to give him the appearance
of being, that which he really was, a very gentleman-like
looking young sailor. Rose had felt no necessity
for taking liberties with the effects of others, though a good
deal of female attire was found in the dwelling. As was
afterward ascertained, a family ordinarily dwelt there, but
most of it had gone to Key West, on a visit, at the moment
when the man and boy left in charge had fallen into the

[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

hands of the Mexicans, losing their lives in the manner
mentioned.

While walking together, Harry opened his mind to Rose,
on the subject which lay nearest to his heart, and which
had been at the bottom of this second visit to the islets of
the Dry Tortugas. During the different visits of Wallace
to the brig, the boat's crew of the Poughkeepsie had held
more or less discourse with the people of the Swash. This
usually happens on such occasions, and although Spike had
endeavoured to prevent it, when his brig lay in this bay,
he had not been entirely successful. Such discourse is
commonly jocular, and sometimes witty; every speech,
coming from which side it may, ordinarily commencing
with “shipmate,” though the interlocutors never saw each
other before that interview. In one of the visits an allusion
was made to cargo, when “the pretty gal aft,” was mentioned
as being a part of the cargo of the Swash. In answer
to this remark, the wit of the Poughkeepsie had told the
brig's man, “you had better send her on board us, for we
carry a chaplain, a regular-built one, that will be a bishop
some day or other, perhaps, and we can get her spliced to
one of our young officers.” This remark had induced the
sailor of the Molly to ask if a sloop-of-war really carried
such a piece of marine luxury as a chaplain, and the explanation
given went to say that the clergyman in question
did not properly belong to the Poughkeepsie, but was to be
put on board a frigate, as soon as they fell in with one that
he named. Now, all this Mulford overheard, and he remembered
it at a moment when it might be of use. Situated
as he and Rose were, he felt the wisdom and propriety
of their being united, and his present object was to persuade
his companion to be of the same way of thinking.
He doubted not that the sloop-of-war would come in, ere
long, perhaps that very day, and he believed it would be an
easy matter to induce her chaplain to perform the ceremony.
America is a country in which every facility exists,
with the fewest possible impediments, to getting married;
and, we regret to be compelled to add, to getting unmarried
also. There are no banns, no licenses, no consent of
parents even, usually necessary, and persons who are of
the age of discretion, which, as respects females and

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

matrimony, is a very tender age indeed, may be married, if they
see fit, almost without form or ceremony. There existed,
therefore, no legal impediment to the course Mulford desired
to take; and his principal, if not his only difficulty,
would be with Rose. Over her scruples he hoped to prevail,
and not without reason, as the case he could and did
present, was certainly one of a character that entitled him
to be heard with great attention.

In the first place, Mrs. Budd had approved of the connection,
and it was understood between them, that the
young people were to be united at the first port in which a
clergyman of their own persuasion could be found, and
previously to reaching home. This had been the aunt's
own project, for, weak and silly as she was, the relict had
a woman's sense of the proprieties. It had occured to her
that it would be more respectable to make the long journey
which lay before them, escorted by a nephew and husband,
than escorted by even an accepted lover. It is true that
she had never anticipated a marriage in a light-house, and
under the circumstances in which Rose was now placed,
though it might be more reputable that her niece should
quit the islets as the wife of Harry than as his betrothed.
Then Mulford still apprehended Spike. In that remote
part of the world, almost beyond the confines of society, it
was not easy to foretell what claims he might set up, in the
event of his meeting them there. Armed with the authority
of a husband, Mulford could resist him, in any such
case, with far better prospects of success than if he should
appear only in the character of a suitor.

Rose listened to these arguments, ardently and somewhat
eloquently put, as a girl of her years and habits would
be apt to listen to a favoured lover. She was much too
sincere to deny her own attachment, which the events of
the last few days had increased almost to intenseness, so
apt is our tenderness to augment in behalf of those for
whom we feel solicitude; and her judgment told her that
the more sober part of Harry's reasoning was entitled to
consideration. As his wife, her situation would certainly
be much less equivocal and awkward, than while she bore
a different name, and was admitted to be a single woman,
and it might yet be weeks before the duty she owed her

[figure description] Page 083.[end figure description]

aunt would allow her to proceed to the north. But, after
all, Harry prevailed more through the influence of his hold
on Rose's affections, as would have been the case with almost
every other woman, than through any force of reasoning.
He truly loved, and that made him eloquent when
he spoke of love; sympathy in all he uttered being his
great ally. When summoned to the house, by the call of
Jack, who announced that the turtle-soup was ready, they
returned with the understanding that the chaplain of the
Poughkeepsie should unite them, did the vessel come in,
and would the functionary mentioned consent to perform
the ceremony.

“It would be awkward—nay, it would be distressing,
Harry, to have him refuse,” said the blushing Rose, as they
walked slowly back to the house, more desirous to prolong
their conversation than to partake of the bountiful provision
of Jack Tier. The latter could not but be acceptable,
nevertheless, to a young man like Mulford, who was in
robust health, and who had fared so badly for the last eight-and-forty
hours. When he sat down to the table, therefore,
which was covered by a snow-white cloth, with smoking
and most savoury viands on it, it will not be surprising
if we say it was with a pleasure that was derived from one
of the great necessities of our nature.

Sancho calls for benediction “on the man who invented
sleep.” It would have been more just to have asked this
boon in behalf of him who invented eating and turtle-soup.
The wearied fall into sleep, as it might be unwittingly;
sometimes against their will, and often against their interests;
while many a man is hungry without possessing the
means of appeasing his appetite. Still more daily feel
hunger without possessing turtle-soup. Certain persons
impute this delicious compound to the genius of some London
alderman, but we rather think unjustly. Aldermanic
genius is easily excited and rendered active, no doubt, by
strong appeals on such a theme, but our own experience
inclines us to believe that the tropics usually send their inventions
to the less fruitful regions of the earth along
with their products. We have little doubt, could the fact
be now ascertained, that it would be found turtle-soup was
originally invented by just some such worthy as Jack Tier,

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

who in filling his coppers to tickle the captain's appetite,
had used all the condiments within his reach; ventured on
a sort of Regent's punch; and, as the consequence, had
brought forth the dish so often eulogized, and so well beloved.
It is a little extraordinary that in Paris, the seat of
gastronomy, one rarely, if ever, hears of or sees this dish;
while in London it is to be met in almost as great abundance
as in one of our larger commercial towns. But so
it is, and we cannot say we much envy a cuisine its patés,
and soufflets, and its à la this and à la thats, but which
was never redolent with the odours of turtle-soup.

“Upon my word, Jack, you have made out famously
with your dinner, or supper, whichever you may please
to call it,” cried Mulford gaily, as he took his seat at table,
after having furnished Rose with a chair. “Nothing
appears to be wanting; but here is good pilot bread, potatoes
even, and other little niceties, in addition to the turtle
and the fish. These good people of the light seem to have
lived comfortably, at any rate.”

“Why should they not, maty?” answered Jack, beginning
to help to soup. “Living on one of these islets is
like living afloat. Everything is laid in, as for an outward
bound craft; then the reef must always furnish fish and
turtle. I've overhauled the lockers pretty thoroughly, and
find a plenty of stores to last us a month. Tea, sugar,
coffee, bread, pickles, potatoes, onions, and all other knick-knacks.”

“The poor people who own these stores will be heavy-hearted
enough when they come to learn the reason why
we have been put in undisturbed possession of their property,”
said Rose. “We must contrive some means of
repaying them for such articles as we may use, Harry.”

“That's easily enough done, Miss Rose. Drop one of
the half-eagles in a tea-pot, or a mug, and they'll be certain
to fall in with it when they come back. Nothin' is
easier than to pay a body's debts, when a body has the will
and the means. Now, the worst enemy of Stephen Spike
must own that his brig never quits port with unsettled bills.
Stephen has his faults, like other mortals; but he has his
good p'ints, too.”

“Still praising Spike, my good Jack,” cried the mate,

[figure description] Page 085.[end figure description]

a little provoked at this pertinacity in the deputy-steward,
in sticking to his ship and his shipmate. “I should have
thought that you had sailed with him long enough to have
found him out, and to wish never to put your foot in his
cabin again.”

“Why, no, maty, a craft is a craft, and a body gets to
like even the faults of one in which a body has gone through
gales, and squalls, with a whole skin. I like the Swash,
and, for sartain things I like her captain.”

“Meaning by that, it is your intention to get on board
of the one, and to sail with the other, again, as soon as you
can.”

“I do, Mr. Mulford, and make no bones in telling on't.
You know that I came here without wishing it.”

“Well, Jack, no one will attempt to control your movements,
but you shall be left your own master. I feel it to
be a duty, however, as one who may know more of the law
than yourself, as well as more of Stephen Spike, to tell you
that he is engaged in a treasonable commerce with the enemy,
and that he, and all who voluntarily remain with him,
knowing this fact, may be made to swing for it.”

“Then I'll swing for it,” returned Jack, sullenly.

“There is a little obstinacy in this, my good fellow, and
you must be reasoned out of it. I am under infinite obligations
to you, Jack, and shall ever be ready to own them.
Without you to sail the boat, I might have been left to
perish on that rock,—for God only knows whether any
vessel would have seen me in passing. Most of those who
go through that passage keep the western side of the reef
aboard, they tell me, on account of there being better
water on that side of the channel, and the chance of a
man's being seen on a rock, by ships a league or two off,
would be small indeed. Yes, Jack, I owe my life to you,
and am proud to own it.”

“You owe it to Miss Rose, maty, who put me up to the
enterprise, and who shared it with me.”

“To her I owe more than life,” answered Harry, looking
at his beloved as she delighted in being regarded by
him, “but even she, with all her wishes to serve me, would
have been helpless without your skill in managing a boat.
I owe also to your good-nature the happiness of having

[figure description] Page 086.[end figure description]

Rose with me at this moment; for without you she would
not have come.”

“I'll not deny it, maty—take another ladle-full of the
soup, Miss Rosy: a quart of it would n't hurt an infant—
I'll not deny it, Mr. Mulford—I know by the way you've
got rid of the first bowl-full that you are ready for another,
and there it is—I'll not deny it, and all I can say is that
you are heartily welcome to my sarvices.”

“I thank you, Jack; but all this only makes me more
desirous of being of use to you, now, when it's in my
power. I wish you to stick by me, and not to return to
the Swash. As soon as I get to New York I shall build
or buy a ship, and the berth of steward in her shall always
be open to you.”

“Thank'e, maty; thank'e, with all my heart. It's
something to know that a port is open to leeward, and,
though I cannot now accept your offer, the day may come
when I shall be glad to do so.”

“If you like living ashore better, our house will always
be ready to receive you. I should be glad to leave as
handy a little fellow as yourself behind me whenever I went
to sea. There are a hundred things in which you might
be useful, and fully earn your biscuit, so as to have no
qualms about eating the bread of idleness.”

“Thank'e, thank'e, maty,” cried Jack, dashing a tear
out of his eye with the back of his hand, “thank'e, sir,
from the bottom of my heart. The time may come, but
not now. My papers is signed for this v'y'ge. Stephen
Spike has a halter round his neck, as you say yourself, and
it's necessary for me to be there to look to't. We all
have our callin's and duties, and this is mine. I stick by
the Molly and her captain until both are out of this scrape,
or both are condemned. I know nothin' of treason; but
if the law wants another victim, I must take my chance.”

Mulford was surprised at this steadiness of Jack's, in
what he thought a very bad cause, and he was quite as
much surprised that Rose did not join him, in his endeavours
to persuade the steward not to be so foolhardy, as to
endeavour to go back to the brig. Rose did not, however;
sitting silently eating her dinner the whole time, though
she occasionally cast glances of interest at both the

[figure description] Page 087.[end figure description]

speakers the while. In this state of things the mate abandoned
the attempt, for the moment, intending to return to the
subject, after having had a private conference with his betrothed.

Notwithstanding the little drawback just related, that
was a happy as well as a delicious repast. The mate did
full justice to the soup, and afterward to the fish with the
unpoetical name; and Rose ate more than she had done in
the last three days. The habits of discipline prevented
Jack from taking his seat at table, though pressed by both
Rose and Harry to do so, but he helped himself to the contents
of a bowl and did full justice to his own art, on one
aside. The little fellow was delighted with the praises
that were bestowed on his dishes; and for the moment, the
sea, its dangers, its tornadoes, wrecks and races, were all
forgotten in the security and pleasures of so savoury a
repast.

“Folk ashore do n't know how sailors sometimes live,”
said Jack, holding a large spoon filled with the soup ready
to plunge into a tolerably capacious mouth.

“Or how they sometimes starve,” answered Rose. “Remember
our own situation, less than forty-eight hours
since!”

“All very true, Miss Rose; yet, you see, turtle-soup
brings us up, a'ter all. Would you like a glass of wine,
maty?”

“Very much indeed, Jack, after so luscious a soup; but
wishing for it will not bring it here.”

“That remains to be seen, sir. I call this a bottle of
something that looks wery much like a wine.”

“Claret, as I live! Why, where should light-house
keepers get the taste for claret?”

“I've thought of that myself, Mr. Mulford, and have
supposed that some of Uncle Sam's officers have brought
the liquor to this part of the world. I understand a party
on 'em was here surveyin' all last winter. It seems they
come in the cool weather, and get their sights and measure
their distances, and go home in the warm weather, and
work out their traverses in the shade, as it might be.”

“This seems likely, Jack; but, come whence it may it
is welcome, and we will taste it.”

[figure description] Page 088.[end figure description]

Mulford then drew the cork of this mild and grateful
liquor, and helped his companions and himself. In this
age of moral tours de force, one scarcely dare say anything
favourable of a liquid that even bears the name of wine, or
extol the shape of a bottle. It is truly the era of exaggeration.
Nothing is treated in the old-fashioned, natural, common
sense way. Virtue is no longer virtue, unless it get
upon stilts; and, as for sin's being confined to “transgression
against the law of God,” audacious would be the
wretch who should presume to limit the sway of the societies
by any dogma so narrow! A man may be as abstemious
as an anchorite and get no credit for it, unless “he
sigu the pledge;” or, signing the pledge, he may get fuddled
in corners, and be cited as a miracle of sobriety. The
test of morals is no longer in the abuse of the gifts of Providence,
but in their use; prayers are deserting the closet
for the corners of streets, and charity (not the giving of
alms) has got to be so earnest in the demonstration of its
nature, as to be pretty certain to “begin at home,” and to
end where it begins. Even the art of mendacity has been
aroused by the great progress which is making by all around
it, and many manifest the strength of their ambition by
telling ten lies where their fathers would have been satisfied
with telling only one. This art has made an extraordinary
progress within the last quarter of a century, aspiring
to an ascendency that was formerly conceded only to truth,
until he who gains his daily bread by it has some such
contempt for the sneaking wretch who does business on
the small scale, as the slayer of his thousands in the field
is known to entertain for him who kills only a single man
in the course of a long life.

At the risk of damaging the reputations of our hero and
heroine, we shall frankly aver the fact that both Harry and
Rose partook of the vin de Bordeaux, a very respectable
bottle of Medoc, by the way, which had been forgotten by
Uncle Sam's people, in the course of the preceding winter,
agreeably to Jack Tier's conjecture. One glass sufficed
for Rose, and, contrary as it may be to all modern theory,
she was somewhat the better for it; while the mate and
Jack Tier quite half emptied the bottle, being none the
worse. There they sat, enjoying the security and

[figure description] Page 089.[end figure description]

abundance which had succeeded to their late danger, happy in
that security, happy in themselves, and happy in the prospects
of a bright future. It was just as practicable for
them to remain at the Dry Tortugas, as it was for the family
which ordinarily dwelt at the light. The place was
amply supplied with everything that would be necessary
for their wants, for months to come, and Harry caused his
betrothed to blush, as he whispered to her, should the
chaplain arrive, he should delight in passing the honey-moon
where they then were.

“I could tend the light,” he added, smiling, “which
would be not only an occupation, but a useful occupation;
you could read all those books from beginning to end, and
Jack could keep us suplied with fish. By the way, master
steward, are you in the humour for motion, so soon
after your hearty meal?”

“Anything to be useful,” answered Jack, cheerfully.

“Then do me the favour to go up into the lantern of the
light-house, and take a look for the sloop-of-war. If she's
in sight at all, you'll find her off here to the northward;
and while you are aloft you may as well make a sweep of
the whole horizon. There hangs the light-house keeper's
glass, which may help your eyes, by stepping into the gallery
outside of the lantern.”

Jack willingly complied, taking the glass and proceeding
forthwith to the other building. Mulford had two objects
in view in giving this commission to the steward. He
really wished to ascertain what was the chance of seeing
the Poughkeepsie, in the neighbourhood of the islets, and
felt just that indisposition to move himself, that is apt to
come over one who has recently made a very bountiful
meal, while he also desired to have another private conversation
with Rose.

A good portion of the time that Jack was gone, and he
stayed quite an hour in the lantern, our lovers conversed as
lovers are much inclined to converse; that is to say, of
themselves, their feelings, and their prospects. Mulford
told Rose of his hopes and fears, while he visited at the
house of her aunt, previously to sailing, and the manner in
which his suspicions had been first awakened in reference
to the intentions of Spike—intentions, so far as they were

[figure description] Page 090.[end figure description]

connected with an admiration of his old commander's niece,
and possibly in connection also with the little fortune she
was known to possess, but not in reference to the bold project
to which he had, in fact, resorted. No distrust of the
scheme finally put in practice had ever crossed the mind
of the young mate, until he received the unexpected order,
mentioned in our opening chapter, to prepare the brig for
the reception of Mrs. Budd and her party. Harry confessed
his jealousy of one youth whom he dreaded far more even
than he had ever dreaded Spike, and whose apparent favour
with Rose, and actual favour with her aunt, had given him
many a sleepless night.

They next conversed of the future, which to them seemed
full of flowers. Various were the projects started, discussed,
and dismissed, between them, the last almost as
soon as proposed. On one thing they were of a mind, as soon
as proposed. Harry was to have a ship as quick as one
could be purchased by Rose's means, and the promised
bride laughingly consented to make one voyage to Europe
along with her husband.

“I wonder, dear Rose, my poverty has never presented
any difficulties in the way of our union,” said Harry, sensibly
touched with the free way his betrothed disposed of
her own money in his behalf; “but neither you nor Mrs.
Budd has ever seemed to think of the difference there is
between us in this respect.”

“What is the trifle I possess, Harry, set in the balance
against your worth? My aunt, as you say, has thought I
might even be the gainer by the exchange.”

“I am sure I feel a thousand times indebted to Mrs.
Budd—”

“Aunt Budd. You must learn to say, `my Aunt Budd,'
Mr. Henry Mulford, if you mean to live in peace with her
unworthy niece.”

“Aunt Budd, then,” returned Harry, laughing, for the
laugh came easily that evening; “Aunt Budd, if you wish
it, Rose. I can have no objection to call any relative of
yours, uncle or aunt.”

“I think we are intimate enough, now, to ask you a
question or two, Harry, touching my aunt,” continued
Rose, looking stealthily over her shoulder, as if

[figure description] Page 091.[end figure description]

apprehensive of being overheard. “You know how fond she is of
speaking of the sea, and of indulging in nautical phrases?”

“Any one must have observed that, Rose,” answered
the young man, gazing up at the wall, in order not to be
compelled to look the beautiful creature before him in the
eyes—“Mrs. Budd has very strong tastes that way.”

“Now tell me, Harry—that is, answer me frankly—I
mean—she is not always right, is she?”

“Why, no; not absolutely so—that is, not absolutely
always so—few persons are always right, you know.”

Rose remained silent and embarrassed for a moment;
after which she pursued the discourse.

“But aunty does not know as much of the sea and of
ships as she thinks she does?”

“Perhaps not. We all overrate our own acquirements.
I dare say that even I am not as good a seaman as I fancy
myself to be.”

“Even Spike admits that you are what he calls `a prime
seaman.' But it is not easy for a woman to get a correct
knowledge of the use of all the strange, and sometimes uncouth,
terms that you sailors use.”

“Certainly not, and for that reason I would rather you
should never attempt it, Rose. We rough sons of the
ocean would prefer to hear our wives make divers pretty
blunders, rather than to be swaggering about like so many
`old salts.' ”

“Mr. Mulford! Does Aunt Budd swagger like an old
salt?”

“Dearest Rose, I was not thinking of your aunt, but of
you. Of you, as you are, feminine, spirited, lovely alike
in form and character, and of you a graduate of the ocean,
and full of its language and ideas.”

It was probable Rose was not displeased at this allusion
to herself, for a smile struggled around her pretty mouth,
and she did not look at all angry. After another short
pause, she resumed the discourse.

“My aunt did not very clearly comprehend those explanations
of yours about the time of day, and the longitude,”
she said, “nor am I quite certain that I did myself.”

“You understood them far better than Mrs. Budd, Rose.
Women are so little accustomed to think on such subjects

[figure description] Page 092.[end figure description]

at all, that it is not surprising they sometimes get confused.
I do wish, however, that your aunt could be persuaded to
be more cautious in the presence of strangers, on the subject
of terms she does not understand.”

“I feared it might be so, Harry,” answered Rose, in a
low voice, as if unwilling even he should know the full extent
of her thoughts on this subject; “but my aunt's heart
is most excellent, though she may make mistakes occasionally,
I owe her a great deal, if not absolutely my education,
certainly my health and comfort through childhood,
and more prudent, womanly advice than you may suppose,
perhaps, since I have left school. How she became the
dupe of Spike, indeed, is to me unaccountable; for in all
that relates to health, she is, in general, both acute and
skilful.”

“Spike is a man of more art than he appears to be to
superficial observers. On my first acquaintance with him,
I mistook him for a frank, fearless but well-meaning sailor,
who loved hazardous voyages and desperate speculation—
a sort of innocent gambler; but I have learned to know
better. His means are pretty much reduced to his brig,
and she is getting old, and can do but little more service.
His projects are plain enough, now. By getting you into
his power, he hoped to compel a marriage, in which case
both your fortune and your aunt's would contribute to repair
his.”

“He might have killed me, but I never would have married
him,” rejoined Rose, firmly. “Is not that Jack coming
down the steps of the light-house?”

“It is. I find that fellow's attachment to Spike very
extraordinary, Rose. Can you, in any manner, account
for it?”

Rose at first seemed disposed to reply. Her lips parted,
as if about to speak, and closed again, as glancing her eyes
toward the open door, she seemed to expect the appearance
of the steward's little, rotund form on its threshold, which
held her tongue-tied. A brief interval elapsed, however,
ere Jack actually arrived, and Rose, perceiving that Harry
was curiously expecting her answer, said hurriedly—“It
may be hatred, not attachment.”

The next instant Jack Tier entered the room. He had

[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

been gone rather more than an hour, not returning until
just as the sun was about to set in a flame of fire.

“Well, Jack, what news from the Poughkeepsie?” demanded
the mate. “You have been gone long enough to
make sure of your errand. Is it certain that we are not
to see the man-of-war's-men to-night.”

“Whatever you see, my advice to you is to keep close,
and to be on your guard,” answered Jack, evasively.

“I have little fear of any of Uncle Sam's craft. A plain
story, and an honest heart, will make all clear to a well-disposed
listener. We have not been accomplices in
Spike's treasons, and cannot be made to answer for them.”

“Take my advice, maty, and be in no hurry to hail
every vessel you see. Uncle Sam's fellows may not always
be at hand to help you. Do you not know that this island
will be tabooed to seamen for some time to come?”

“Why so, Jack? The islet has done no harm, though
others may have performed wicked deeds near it.”

“Two of the drowned men lie within a hundred yards
of this spot, and sailors never go near new-made graves, if
they can find any other place to resort to.”

“You deal in enigmas, Jack; and did I not know that
you are very temperate, I might suspect that the time you
have been gone has been passed in the company of a bottle
of brandy.”

“That will explain my meanin',” said Jack, laconically,
pointing as he spoke seemingly at some object that was to
be seen without.

The door of the house was wide open, for the admission
of air. It faced the haven of the islets, and just as the
mate's eyes were turned to it, the end of a flying-jib-boom,
with the sail down, and fluttering beneath it, was coming
into the view. “The Poughkeepsie!” exclaimed Mulford,
in delight, seeing all his hopes realized, while Rose blushed
to the eyes. A pause succeeded, during which Mulford
drew aside, keeping his betrothed in the back-ground, and
as much out of sight as possible. The vessel was shooting
swiftly into view, and presently all there could see it was
the Swash.

CHAPTER IV.

But no—he surely is not dreaming.
Another minute makes it clear,
A scream, a rush, a burning tear,
From Inez' cheek, dispel the fear
That bliss like his is only seeming.
Washington Alston.

[figure description] Page 094.[end figure description]

A moment of appalled surprise succeeded the instant
when Harry and Rose first ascertained the real character
of the vessel that had entered the haven of the Dry Tortugas.
Then the first turned toward Jack Tier, and sternly
demanded an explanation of his apparent faithlessness.

“Rascal,” he cried, “has this treachery been intended?
Did you not see the brig and know her?”

“Hush, Harry—dear Harry,” exclaimed Rose, entreatingly.
“My life for it, Jack has not been faithless.”

“Why, then, has he not let us know that the brig was
coming? For more than an hour has he been aloft, on
the look-out, and here are we taken quite by surprise.
Rely on it, Rose, he has seen the approach of the brig, and
might have sooner put us on our guard.”

“Ay, ay, lay it on, maty,” said Jack, coolly, neither
angry nor mortified, so far as appearances went, at these
expressions of dissatisfaction; “my back is used to it. If
I did n't know what it is to get hard raps on the knuckles,
I should be but a young steward. But, as for this business,
a little reflection will tell you I am not to blame.”

“Give us your own explanations, for without them I
shall trust you no longer.”

“Well, sir, what good would it have done, had I told
you the brig was standing for this place? There she came
down, like a race-horse, and escape for you was impossible.
As the wind is now blowin', the Molly would go two feet
to the boat's one, and a chase would have been madness.”

“I do n't know that, sirrah” answered the mate.“ The

[figure description] Page 095.[end figure description]

boat might have got into the smaller passages of the reef,
where the brig could not enter, or she might have dodged
about among these islets, until it was night, and then escaped
in the darkness.”

“I thought of all that, Mr. Mulford, but it came too late.
When I first went aloft, I came out on the north-west side
of the lantern, and took my seat, to look out for the sloop-of-war,
as you bade me, sir. Well, there I was sweepin'
the horizon with the glass for the better part of an hour,
sometimes fancyin' I saw her, and then givin' it up; for to
this moment I am not sartain there is n't a sail off here to
the westward, turning up toward the light on a bowline;
but if there be, she's too far off to know anything partic'lar
about her. Well, sir, there I sat, looking for the
Poughkeepsie, for the better part of an hour, when I
thought I would go round on t' other side of the lantern
and take a look to windward. My heart was in my mouth,
I can tell you, Miss Rose, when I saw the brig; and I felt
both glad and sorry. Glad on my own account, and sorry
on your'n. There she was, however, and no help for it,
within two miles of this very spot, and coming down as if
she despised touching the water at all. Now, what could
I do? There was n't time, Mr. Mulford, to get the boat
out, and the mast stepped, afore we should have been within
reach of canister, and Stephen Spike would not have
spared that, in order to get you again within his power.”

“Depend on it, Harry, this is all true,” said Rose, earnestly.
“I know Jack well, and can answer for his fidelity.
He wishes to, and if he can he will return to the brig,
whither he thinks his duty calls him, but he will never
willingly betray us—least of all, me. Do I speak as I ought,
Jack?”

“Gospel truth, Miss Rose, and Mr. Mulford will get
over this squall, as soon as he comes to think of matters as
he ought. There 's my hand, maty, to show I bear no
malice.”

“I take it, Jack, for I must believe you honest, after all
you have done for us. Excuse my warmth, which, if a little
unreasonable, was somewhat natural under the circumstances.
I suppose our case is now hopeless, and that we
shall all be soon on board the brig again; for Spike will

[figure description] Page 096.[end figure description]

hardly think of abandoning me again on an island provisioned
and fitted as is this!”

“It's not so sartain, sir, that you fall into his hands at
all,” put in Jack. “The men of the brig will never come
here of their own accord, depend on that, for sailors don't
like graves. Spike has come in here a'ter the schooner's
chain, that he dropped into the water when he made sail
from the sloop-of-war, at the time he was here afore, and
is not expectin' to find us here. No—no—he thinks we
are beatin' up toward Key West this very minute, if, indeed,
he has missed us at all. 'T is possible he believes
the boat has got adrift by accident, and has no thought of
our bein' out of the brig.”

“That is impossible, Jack. Do you suppose he is ignorant
that Rose is missing?”

“Sartain of it, maty, if Mrs. Budd has read the letter
well that Miss Rose left for her, and Biddy has obeyed orders.
If they've followed instructions, Miss Rose is
thought to be in her state-room, mournin' for a young man
who was abandoned on a naked rock, and Jack Tier, havin'
eat somethin' that has disagreed with him, is in his berth.
Recollect, Spike will not be apt to look into Miss Rose's
state-room or my berth, to see if all this is true. The
cook and Josh are both in my secret, and know I mean to
come back, and when the fit is over I have only to return
to duty, like any other hand. It is my calculation that
Spike believes both Miss Rose and myself on board the
Molly at this very moment.”

“And the boat—what can he suppose has become of the
boat?”

“Sartainly, the boat makes the only chance ag'in us.
But the boat was ridin' by its painter astarn, and accidents
sometimes happen to such craft. Then we two are the
wery last he will suspect of havin' made off in the boat by
ourselves. There'll be Mrs. Budd and Biddy as a sort of
pledge that Miss Rose is aboard, and as for Jack Tier, he
is too insignificant to occupy the captain's thoughts just
now. He will probably muster the people for'ard, when
he finds the boat is gone, but I do not think he'll trouble
the cabins or state-rooms.”

Mulford admitted that this was possible, though it

[figure description] Page 097.[end figure description]

scarcely seemed probable to him. There was no help,
however, for the actual state of things, and they all now
turned their attention to the brig, and to the movements
of those on board her. Jack Tier had swung-to the outer-door
of the house, as soon as the Swash came in view
through it, and fortunately none of the windows on that
side of the building had been opened at all. The air entered
to windward, which was on the rear of the dwelling,
so that it was possible to be comfortable and yet leave the
front, in view from the vessel, with its deserted air. As
for the brig, she had already anchored and got both her
boats into the water. The yawl was hauled alongside, in
readiness for any service that might be required of it, while
the launch had been manned at once, and was already
weighing the anchor, and securing the chain to which Tier
had alluded. All this served very much to lessen the uneasiness
of Mulford and Rose, as it went far to prove that
Spike had not come to the Dry Tortugas in quest of them,
as, at first, both had very naturally supposed. It might,
indeed, turn out that his sole object was to obtain this anchor
and chain, with a view to use them in raising the ill-fated
vessel that had now twice gone to the bottom.

“I wish an explanation with you, Jack, on one other
point,” said the mate, after all three had been for sometime
observing the movements on board and around the Swash.
“Do you actually intend to get on board the brig?”

“If it's to be done, maty. My v'y'ge is up with you
and Miss Rose. I may be said to have shipped for Key
West and a market, and the market's found at this port.”

“You will hardly leave us yet, Jack,” said Rose, with a
manner and emphasis that did not fail to strike her betrothed
lover, though he could in no way account for either.
That Rose should not wish to be left alone with him in
that solitary place was natural enough; or, might rather
be referred to education and the peculiar notions of her
sex; but he could not understand why so much importance
should be attached to the presence of a being of Jack Tier's
mould and character. It was true, that there was little
choice, under present circumstances, but it occurred to
Mulford that Rose had manifested the same strange predilection
when there might have been something nearer to a

[figure description] Page 098.[end figure description]

selection. The moment, however, was not one for much
reflection on the subject.

“You will hardly leave us yet, Jack?” said Rose, in
the manner related.

“it's now or never, Miss Rose. If the brig once gets
away from this anchorage without me, I may never lay eyes
on her ag'in. Her time is nearly up, for wood and iron
wont hold together always, any more than flesh and blood.
Consider how many years I've been busy in huntin' her
up, and how hard 't will be to lose that which has given
me so many weary days and sleepless nights to find.”

Rose said no more. If not convinced, she was evidently
silenced, while Harry was left to wonder and surmise, as
best he might. Both quitted the subject, to watch the
people of the brig. By this time the anchor had been lifted,
and the chain was heaving in on board the vessel, by
means of a line that had been got around its bight. The
work went on rapidly, and Mulford observed to Rose that
he did not think it was the intention of Spike to remain
long at the Tortugas, inasmuch as his brig was riding by
a very short range of cable. This opinion was confirmed,
half an hour later, when it was seen that the launch was
hooked on and hoisted in again, as soon as the chain and
anchor of the schooner were secured.

Jack Tier watched every movement with palpable uneasiness.
His apprehensions that Spike would obtain all he
wanted, and be off before he could rejoin him, increased
at each instant, and he did not scruple to announce an intention
to take the boat and go alongside of the Swash at
every hazard, rather than be left.

“You do not reflect on what you say, Jack,” answered
Harry; “unless, indeed, it be your intention to betray us.
How could you appear in the boat, at this place, without
letting it be known that we must be hard by?”

“That don't follow at all, maty,” answered Jack.
“Suppose I go alongside the brig and own to the captain
that I took the boat last night, with the hope of findin' you,
and that failin' to succeed, I bore up for this port, to look
for provisions and water. Miss Rose he thinks on board
at this moment, and in my judgment he would take me at
my word, give me a good cursing, and think no more about
it.”

[figure description] Page 099.[end figure description]

“It would never do, Jack,” interposed Rose, instantly.
“It would cause the destruction of Harry, as Spike would
not believe you had not found him, without an examination
of this house.”

“What are they about with the yawl, Mr. Mulford?”
asked Jack, whose eye was never off the vessel for a single
moment. “It's gettin' to be so dark that one can hardly
see the boat, but it seems as if they're about to man the
yawl.”

“They are, and there goes a lantern into it. And that
is Spike himself coming down the brig's side this instant.”

“They can only bring a lantern to search this house,”
exclaimed Rose. “Oh! Harry, you are lost!”

“I rather think the lantern is for the light-house,” answered
Mulford, whose coolness, at what was certainly a
most trying moment, did not desert him. “Spike may
wish to keep the light burning, for once before, you will
remember, he had it kindled after the keeper was removed.
As for his sailing, he would not be apt to sail until the
moon rises; and in beating back to the wreck the light
may serve to let him know the bearings and position of the
reef.”

“There they come,” whispered Rose, half breathless
with alarm. “The boat has left the brig, and is coming
directly hither!”

All this was true enough. The yawl had shoved off,
and with two men to row it, was pulling for the wharf in
front of the house, and among the timbers of which lay the
boat, pretty well concealed beneath a sort of bridge. Mulford
would not retreat, though he looked to the fastenings
of the door as a means of increasing his chances of defence.
In the stern-sheets of the boat sat two men, though it was
not easy to ascertain who they were by the fading light.
One was known to be Spike, however, and the other, it
was conjectured, must be Don Juan Montefalderon, from the
circumstance of his being in the place of honour. Three
minutes solved this question, the boat reaching the wharf
by that time. It was instantly secured, and all four of the
men left it. Spike was now plainly to be discerned by
means of the lantern which he carried in his own hands,
He gave some orders, in his customary authoritative way,

[figure description] Page 100.[end figure description]

and in a high key, after which he led the way from the
wharf, walking side by side with the Señor Montefalderon.
These two last came up within a yard of the door of the
house, where they paused, enabling those within not only
to see their persons and the working of their countenances,
but to hear all that was said; this last the more especially,
since Spike never thought it necessary to keep his powerful
voice within moderate limits.

“It's hardly worth while, Don Wan, for you to go into
the light-house,” said Spike. “'T is but a greasy, dirty
place at the best, and one's clothes are never the better for
dealin' with ile. Here, Bill, take the lantern, and get a
filled can, that we may go up and trim and fill the lamp,
and make a blaze. Bear a hand, lads, and I'll be a'ter
ye afore you reach the lantern. Be careful with the flame
about the ile, for seamen ought never to wish to see a light-house
destroyed.”

“What do you expect to gain by lighting the lamps
above, Don Esteban?” demanded the Mexican, when the
sailors had disappeared in the light-house, taking their own
lantern with them.

“It's wisest to keep things reg'lar about this spot, Don
Wan, which will prevent unnecessary suspicions. But, as
the brig stretches in toward the reef to-night, on our way
back, the light will be a great assistance. I am short of
officers, you know, and want all the help of this sort I can
get.”

“To be sincere with you, Don Esteban, I greatly regret
you are so short of officers, and do not yet despair of inducing
you to go and take off the mate, whom I hear you
have left on a barren rock. He was a fine young fellow,
Señor Spike, and the deed was not one that you will wish
to remember a few years hence.”

“The fellow run, and I took him at his word, Don Wan.
I'm not obliged to receive back a deserter unless it suits
me.”

“We are all obliged to see we do not cause a fellow
creature the loss of life. This will prove the death of the
charming young woman who is so much attached to him,
unless you relent and are merciful!”

“Women have tender looks but tough hearts,” answered

[figure description] Page 101.[end figure description]

Spike, carelessly, though Mulford felt certain, by the tone
of his voice, that great bitterness of feeling lay smothered
beneath the affected indifference of his manner; “few die
of love.”

“The young lady has not been on deck all day; and the
Irish woman tells me that she does nothing but drink water—
the certain proof of a high fever.”

“Ay, ay, she keeps her room if you will, Don Wan, but
she is not about to make a dupe of me by any such tricks.
I must go and look to the lamps, however, and you will
find the graves you seek in the rear of this house, about
thirty yards behind it, you'll remember. That's a very
pretty cross you've made, señor, and the skipper of the
schooner's soul will be all the better for settin' it up at the
head of his grave.”

“It will serve to let those who come after us know that
a Christian sleeps beneath the sand, Don Esteban,” answered
the Mexican, mildly. “I have no other expectation
from this sacred symbol.”

The two now separated, Spike going into the light-house,
little in a hurry, while Don Juan Montefalderon walked
round the building to its rear in quest of the grave. Mulford
waited a moment for Spike to get a short distance up
the stairs of the high tower he had to ascend, when placing
the arm of Rose within his own, he opened the door in
the rear of the house, and walked boldly toward the Mexican.
Don Juan was actually forcing the pointed end of
his little cross into the sand, at the head of his countryman's
grave, when Mulford and his trembling companion
reached the spot. Although night had shut in, it was not
so dark that persons could not be recognised at small distances.
The Señor Montefalderon was startled at an apparition
so sudden and unexpected, when Mulford saluted
him by name; but recognising first the voice of Harry,
and then the persons of himself and his companion, surprise,
rather than alarm, became the emotion that was uppermost.
Notwithstanding the strength of the first of these
feelings, he instantly saluted the young couple with the
polished ease that marked his manner, which had much of
the courtesy of a Castilian in it, tempered a little, perhaps,
by the greater flexibility of a Southern American.

[figure description] Page 102.[end figure description]

“I see you,” exclaimed Don Juan, “and must believe
my eyes. Without their evidence, however, I could scarce
believe it can be you two, one of whom I thought on board
the brig, and the other suffering a most miserable death on
a naked rock.”

“I am aware of your kind feelings in our behalf, Don
Juan,” said Mulford, “and it is the reason I now confide
in you. I was taken off that rock by means of the boat,
which you doubtless have missed; and this is the gentle
being who has been the means of saving my life. To her
and Jack Tier, who is yonder, under the shadows of the
house, I owe my not being the victim of Spike's cruelty.”

“I now comprehend the whole matter, Don Henriquez.
Jack Tier has managed the boat for the señorita; and
those whom we were told were too ill to be seen on deck,
have been really out of the brig!”

“Such are the facts, señor, and from you there is no
wish to conceal them. We are then to understand that
the absence of Rose and Jack from the brig is not known
to Spike.”

“I believe not, señor. He has alluded to both, once or
twice to-day, as being ill below; but would you not do
well to retire within the shade of the dwelling, lest a glance
from the lantern might let those in it know that I am not
alone.”

“There is little danger, Don Juan, as they who stand
near a light cannot well see those who are in the darkness.
Beside, they are high in the air, while we are on the
ground, which will greatly add to the obscurity down here.
We can retire, nevertheless, as I have a few questions to
ask, which may as well be put in perfect security, as put
where there is any risk.”

The three now drew near the house, Rose actually stepping
within its door, though Harry remained on its exterior,
in order to watch the proceedings of those in the
light-house. Here the Señor Montefalderon entered into
a more detailed explanation of what had occurred on board
the brig, since the appearance of day, that very morning.
According to his account of the matter, Spike had immediately
called upon the people to explain the loss of the
boat. Tier was not interrogated on this occasion, it being

[figure description] Page 103.[end figure description]

understood he had gone below and turned in, after having
the look-out for fully half the night. As no one could, or
would, give an account of the manner in which the boat
was missing, Josh was ordered to go below and question
Jack on the subject. Whether it was from consciousness
of his connection with the escape of Jack, and apprehensions
of the consequences, or from innate good-nature, and
a desire to befriend the lovers, this black now admitted
that Jack confessed to him that the boat had got away from
him while endeavouring to shift the turns of its painter from
a cleet where they ought not to be, to their proper place.
This occurred early in Jack's watch, according to Josh's
story, and had not been reported, as the boat did not properly
belong to the brig, and was an incumbrance rather
than an advantage. The mate admired the negro's cunning,
as Don Juan related this part of his story, which put
him in a situation to throw all the blame on Jack's mendacity
in the event of a discovery, while it had the effect to
allow the fugitives more time for their escape. The result
was, that Spike bestowed a few hearty curses, as usual, on
the clumsiness of Jack Tier, and seemed to forget all about
the matter. It is probable he connected Jack's abstaining
from showing himself on deck, and his alleged indisposition,
with his supposed delinquency in this matter of the
boat. From that moment the captain appeared to give
himself no further concern on the subject, the boat having
been, in truth, an incumbrance rather than a benefit, as
stated.

“As for Rose, her keeping her room, under the circumstances,
was so very natural, that the Señor Montefalderon
had been completely deceived, as, from his tranquillity on
this point, there was no question was the case with Spike
also. Biddy appeared on deck, though the widow did not,
and the Irish woman shook her head anxiously when questioned
about her young mistress, giving the spectators reason
to suppose that the latter was in a very bad way.

As respects the brig and her movements, Spike had got
under way as soon as there was light enough to find his
course, and had run through the passage. It is probable
that the boat was seen; for something that was taken for
a small sail had just been made out for a single instant, and

[figure description] Page 104.[end figure description]

then became lost again. This little sail was made, if made
at all, in the direction of the Dry Tortugas, but so completely
was all suspicion at rest in the minds of those on
the quarter-deck of the Swash, that neither Spike nor the
Mexican had the least idea what it was. When the circumstance
was reported to the former, he answered that it
was probably some small wrecker, of which many were
hovering about the reef, and added, laughingly, though in
a way to prove how little he thought seriously on the subject
at all, “who knows but the light-house boat has fallen
into their hands, and that they've made sail on her; if
they have, my word for it, that she goes, hull, spars, rigging,
canvas, and cargo, all in a lump, for salvage.”

As the brig came out of the passage, in broad day, the
heads of the schooner's masts were seen, as a matter of
course. This induced Spike to heave-to, lower a boat, and
to go in person to examine the condition of the wreck.
It will be seen that Jack's presence could now be all the better
dispensed with. The examination, with the soundings,
and other calculations connected with raising the vessel,
occupied hours. When they were completed, Spike returned
on board, run up his boat, and squared away for the
Dry Tortugas. Señor Montefalderon confirmed the justice
of Jack Tier's surmises, as to the object of this unexpected
visit. The brig had come solely for the chain and anchor
mentioned, and having secured them, it was Spike's
intention to get under way and beat up to the wreck again
as soon as the moon rose. As for the sloop-of-war, he believed
she had given him up; for by this time she must
know that she had no chance with the brig, so long as the
latter kept near the reef, and that she ran the constant
hazard of shipwreck, while playing so near the dangers
herself.

Before the Señor Montefalderon exhausted all he had to
communicate, he was interrupted by Jack Tier with a singular
proposition. Jack's great desire was to get on board
the Swash; and he now begged the Mexican to let Mulford
take the yawl and scull him off to the brig, and return to
the islet before Spike and his companions should descend
from the lantern of the light-house. The little fellow insisted
there was sufficient time for such a purpose, as the

[figure description] Page 105.[end figure description]

three in the lantern had not yet succeeded in filling the
lamps with the oil necessary to their burning for a night—
a duty that usually occupied the regular keeper for an hour.
Five or six minutes would suffice for him; and if he were
seen going up the brig's side, it would be easy for him to
maintain that he had come ashore in the boat. No one
took such precise note of what was going on; as to be able
to contradict him; and as to Spike and the men with him,
they would probably never hear anything about it.

Don Juan Montefalderon was struck with the boldness
of Jack Tier's plan, but refused his assent to it. He deemed
it too hazardous, but substituted a project of his own.
The moon would not rise until near eleven, and it wanted
several hours before the time of sailing. When they returned
to the brig, he would procure his cloak, and scull
himself ashore, being perfectly used to managing a boat in
this way, under the pretence of wishing to pass an hour
longer near the grave of his countryman. At the expiration
of that hour he would take Jack off, concealed beneath
his cloak—an exploit of no great difficulty in the darkness,
especially as no one would be on deck but a hand or two
keeping the anchor-watch. With this arrangement, therefore,
Jack Tier was obliged to be content.

Some fifteen or twenty minutes more passed; during
which the Mexican again alluded to his country, and his
regrets at her deplorable situation. The battles of the 8th
and 9th of May; two combats that ought to, and which will
reflect high honour on the little army that won them, as
well as on that hardly worked, and in some respects hardly
used, service to which they belong, had been just fought.
Don Juan mentioned these events without reserve; and frankly
admitted that success had fallen to the portion of much the
weaker party. He ascribed the victory to the great superiority
of the American officers of inferior rank; it being
well known that in the service of the “Republic of the
North,” as he termed America, men who had been regularly
educated at the military academy, and who had reached
the period of middle life, were serving in the stations
of captains, and sometimes in that of lieutenants; men who,
in many cases, were fitted to command regiments and brigades,
having been kept in these lower stations by the

[figure description] Page 106.[end figure description]

tardiness with which promotion comes in an army like that
of this country.

Don Juan Montefalderon was not sufficiently conversant
with the subject, perhaps, else he might have added, that
when occasions do offer to bestow on these gentlemen the
preferment they have so hardly and patiently earned, they
are too often neglected, in order to extend the circle of
vulgar political patronage. He did not know that when a
new regiment of dragoons was raised, one permanent in
its character, and intended to be identified with the army
in all future time, that, instead of giving its commissions
to those who had fairly earned them by long privations and
faithful service, they were given, with one or two exceptions,
to strangers.

No government trifles more with its army and navy than
our own. So niggardly are the master-spirits at Washington
of the honours justly earned by military men, that we
have fleets still commanded by captains, and armies by officers
whose regular duty it would be to command brigades.
The world is edified with the sight of forces sufficient, in
numbers, and every other military requisite, to make one
of Napoleon's corps de armée, led by one whose commission
would place him properly at the head of a brigade, and
nobly led, too. Here, when so favourable an occasion offers
to add a regiment or two to the old permanent line of
the army, and thus infuse new life into its hope deferred,
the opportunity is overlooked, and the rank and file are to
be obtained by cramming, instead of by a generous regard
to the interests of the gallant gentlemen who have done so
much for the honour of the American name, and, unhappily,
so little for themselves. The extra-patriots of the
nation, and they form a legion large enough to trample the
“Halls of the Montezumas” under their feet, tell us that
the reward of those other patriots beneath the shadows of
the Sierra Madre, is to be in the love and approbation of
their fellow citizens, at the very moment when they are
giving the palpable proof of the value of this esteem, and
of the inconstancy of popular applause, by pointing their
fingers, on account of an inadvertent expression in a letter,
at the gallant soldier who taught, in our own times, the
troops of this country to stand up to the best appointed

[figure description] Page 107.[end figure description]

regiments of England, and to carry off victory from the pride
of Europe, in fair field-fights. Alas! alas! it is true of
nations as well as of men, in their simplest and earliest
forms of association, that there are “secrets in all families;”
and it will no more do to dwell on our own, than it would
edify us to expose those of poor Mexico.

The discourse between the Señor Montefalderon and
Mulford was interesting, as it ever has been when the former
spoke of his unfortunate country. On the subject of
the battles of May he was candid, and admitted his deep
mortification and regrets. He had expected more from the
force collected on the Rio Grande, though, understanding
the northern character better than most of his countrymen,
he had not been as much taken by surprise as the great
bulk of his own nation.

“Nevertheless, Don Henrique,” he concluded, for the
voice of Spike was just then heard as he was descending
the stairs of the light-house, “nevertheless, Don Henrique,
there is one thing that your people, brave, energetic, and
powerful as I acknowledge them to be, would do well to
remember, and it is this—no nation of the numbers of ours
can be, or ever was conquered, unless by the force of political
combinations. In a certain state of society a government
may be overturned, or a capital taken, and carry a
whole country along with it, but our condition is one not
likely to bring about such a result. We are of a race different
from the Anglo-Saxon, and it will not be easy either
to assimilate us to your own, or wholly to subdue us. In
those parts of the country, where the population is small,
in time, no doubt, the Spanish race might be absorbed,
and your sway established; but ages of war would be necessary
entirely to obliterate our usages, our language, and
our religion from the peopled portions of Mexico.”

It might be well for some among us to reflect on these
matters. The opinions of Don Juan, in our judgment,
being entitled to the consideration of all prudent and considerate
men.

As Spike descended to the door of the light-house, Harry,
Rose, and Jack Tier retired within that of the dwelling.
Presently the voice of the captain was heard hailing the
Mexican, and together they walked to the wharf, the

[figure description] Page 108.[end figure description]

former boasting to the latter of his success in making a
brilliant light. Brilliant it was, indeed; so brilliant as to
give Mulford many misgivings on the subject of the boat.
The light from the lantern fell upon the wharf, and he
could see the boat from the window where he stood, with
Spike standing nearly over it, waiting for the men to get
his own yawl ready. It is true, the captain's back was
toward the dangerous object, and the planks of the bridge
were partly between him and it; but there was a serious
danger that was solely averted by the circumstance that
Spike was so earnestly dilating on some subject to Don
Juan, as to look only at that gentleman's face. A minute
later they were all in the yawl, which pulled rapidly toward
the brig.

Don Juan Montefalderon was not long absent. Ten
minutes sufficed for the boat to reach the Swash, for him
to obtain his cloak, and to return to the islet alone, no one
in the vessel feeling a desire to interfere with his imaginary
prayers. As for the people, it was not probable that one
in the brig could have been induced to accompany him to
the graves at that hour; though everybody but Josh had
turned-in, as he informed Mulford, to catch short naps previously
to the hour of getting the brig under way. As for
the steward, he had been placed on the look-out as the
greatest idler on board. All this was exceedingly favourable
to Jack Tier's project, since Josh was already in the
secret of his absence, and would not be likely to betray his
return. After a brief consultation, it was agreed to wait
half an hour or an hour, in order to let the sleepers lose all
consciousness, when Don Juan proposed returning to the
vessel with his new companion.

The thirty or forty minutes that succeeded were passed
in general conversation. On this occasion the Señor Montefalderon
spoke more freely than he had yet done of recent
events. He let it be plainly seen how much he despised
Spike, and how irksome to him was the intercourse he was
obliged to maintain, and to which he only submitted
through a sense of duty. The money known to be in the
schooner, was of a larger amount than had been supposed;
and every dollar was so important to Mexico, at that moment,
that he did not like to abandon it, else, did he

[figure description] Page 109.[end figure description]

declare, that he would quit the brig at once, and share in the
fortunes of Harry and Rose. He courteously expressed
his best wishes for the happiness of the young couple, and
delicately intimated that, under the circumstances, he supposed
that they would be united as soon as they could
reach a place where the marriage rite could be celebrated.
This was said in the most judicious way possible; so delicately
as not to wound any one's feelings, and in a way to
cause it to resemble the announcement of an expectation,
rather than the piece of paternal advice for which it was
really intended. Harry was delighted with this suggestion
of his Mexican friend—the most loyal American may still
have a sincere friend of Mexican birth and Mexican feelings,
too—since it favoured not only his secret wishes, but
his secret expectations also.

At the appointed moment, Don Juan Montefalderon and
Jack Tier took their leave of the two they left behind them.
Rose manifested what to Harry seemed a strange reluctance
to part with the little steward; but Tier was bent on
profiting by this excellent opportunity to get back to the
brig. They went, accordingly, and the anxious listeners,
who watched the slightest movement of the yawl, from the
shore, had reason to believe that Jack was smuggled in
without detection. They heard the familiar sound of the
oar falling in the boat, and Mulford said that Josh's voice
might be distinguished, answering to a call from Don Juan.
No noise or clamour was heard, such as Spike would certainly
have made, had he detected the deception that had
been practised on himself.

Harry and Rose were now alone. The former suggested
that the latter should take possession of one of the little
bed-rooms that are usually to be found in American dwellings
of the dimensions and humble character of the lighthouse
abode, while he kept watch until the brig should sail.
Until Spike was fairly off, he would not trust himself to
sleep; but there was no sufficient reason why Rose should
not endeavour to repair the evil of a broken night's rest,
like that which had been passed in the boat. With this
understanding, then, our heroine took possession of her
little apartment, where she threw herself on the bed in her

[figure description] Page 110.[end figure description]

clothes, while Mulford walked out into the air, as the most
effective means of helping to keep his eyes open.

It was now some time past ten, and before eleven the
moon would rise. The mate consequently knew that his
watch could not be long before Spike would quit the neighbourhood—
a circumstance pregnant with immense relief
to him, at least. So long as that unscrupulous, and now
nearly desperate, man remained anywhere near Rose, he
felt that she could not be safe; and as he paced the sands,
on the off, or outer side of the islet, in order to be beyond
the influence of the light in the lantern, his eye was scarcely
a moment taken away from the Swash, so impatiently
and anxiously did he wait for the signs of some movement
on board her.

The moon rose, and Mulford heard the well-known raps
on the booby-hatch, which precedes the call of “all hands,”
on board a merchant-man. “All hands up anchor, ahoy!”
succeeded, and in less than five minutes the bustle on
board the brig announced the fact, that her people were
“getting the anchor.” By this time it had got to be so
light that the mate deemed it prudent to return to the
house, in order that he might conceal his person within its
shadows. Awake Rose he would not, though he knew she
would witness the departure of the Swash with a satisfaction
little short of his own. He thought he would wait,
that when he did speak to her at all, it might be to announce
their entire safety. As regarded the aunt, Rose
was much relieved on her account, by the knowledge that
Jack Tier would not fail to let Mrs. Budd know everything
connected with her own situation and prospects. The desertion
of Jack, after coming so far with her, had pained
our heroine in a way we cannot at present explain; but go
he would, probably feeling assured there was no longer any
necessity for his continuance with the lovers, in order to
prevail on Rose to escape from Spike.

The Swash was not long in getting her ground-tackle,
and the brig was soon seen with her topsail aback, waiting
to cat the anchor. This done, the yards swung round, and
the topsail filled. It was blowing just a good breeze for
such a craft to carry whole sail on a bow-line with, and
away the light and active craft started, like the racer that

[figure description] Page 111.[end figure description]

is galloping for daily exercise. Of course there were several
passages by which a vessel might quit the group of islets,
some being larger, and some smaller, but all having
sufficient water for a brigantine of the Molly's draught.
Determined not to lose an inch of distance unnecessarily,
Spike luffed close up to the wind, making an effort to pass
out to windward of the light. In order to do this, however,
it became necessary for him to make two short tacks
within the haven, which brought him far enough to the
southward and eastward to effect his purpose. While this
was doing, the mate, who perfectly understood the object
of the manœuvres, passed to the side of the light-house that
was opposite to that on which the dwelling was placed,
with a view to get a better sight of the vessel as she stood
out to sea. In order to do this, however, it was necessary
for the young man to pass through a broad bit of moonlight
but he trusted for his not being seen, to the active manner
in which all hands were employed on board the vessel. It
would seem that, in this respect, Mulford trusted without
his host, for as the vessel drew near, he perceived that six
or eight figures were on the guns of the Swash, or in her
rigging, gesticulating eagerly, and seemingly pointing to
the very spot where he stood. When the brig got fairly
abeam of the light, she would not be a hundred yards distant
from it, and fearful to complete the exposure of his
person, which he had so inadvertently and unexpectedly
commenced, our mate drew up close to the wall of the
light-house, against which he sustained himself in a position
as immovable as possible. This movement had been
seen by a single seaman on board the Swash, and the man
happened to be one of those who had landed with Spike
only two hours before. His name was Barlow.

“Captain Spike, sir,” called out Barlow, who was coiling
up rigging on the forecastle, and was consequently
obliged to call out so loud as to be heard by all on board,
“yonder is a man at the foot of the light-house.”

By this time, the moon coming out bright through an
opening in the clouds, Mulford had become conscious of
the risk he ran, and was drawn up, as immovable as the
pile itself, against the stones of the light-house. Such an
announcement brought everybody to leeward, and every

[figure description] Page 112.[end figure description]

head over the bulwarks. Spike himself sprang into the lee
main-chains, where his view was unobstructed, and where
Mulford saw and recognised him, even better than he was
seen and recognised in his own person. All this time the
brig was moving ahead.

“A man, Barlow!” exclaimed Spike, in the way one a
little bewildered by an announcement expresses his surprise.
“A man! that can never be. There is no one at
the light-house, you know.”

“There he stands, sir, with his back to the tower, and
his face this way. His dark figure against the whitewashed
stones is plain enough to be seen. Living, or dead,
sir, that is the mate!”

“Living it cannot be,” answered Spike, though he
gulped at the words the next moment.

A general exclamation now showed that everybody recognised
the mate, whose figure, stature, dress, and even
features, were by this time all tolerably distinct. The
fixed attitude, however, the immovable statue-like rigidity
of the form, and all the other known circumstances of
Harry's case, united to produce a common and simultaneous
impression among the superstitious mariners, that
what they saw was but the ghostly shadow of one lately departed
to the world of spirits. Even Spike was not free
from this illusion, and his knees shook beneath him, there
where he stood, in the channels of a vessel that he had
handled like a top in so many gales and tempests. With
him, however, the illusion was neither absolute nor lasting.
A second thought told him it could scarcely be so, and
then he found his voice. By this time the brig was nearly
abreast of where Harry stood.

“You Josh!” called out Spike, in a voice of thunder,
loud enough to startle even Mrs. Budd and Biddy in their
berths.

“Lor' help us all!” answered the negro, “what will
come next t'ing aboard dis wessel! Here I be, sir.”

“Pass the fowling-piece out of my state-room. Both
barrels are loaded with ball; I'll try him, though the bullets
are only lead.”

A common exclamation of dissatisfaction escaped the
men, while Josh was obeying the order. “It's no use.”

[figure description] Page 113.[end figure description]

“You never can hurt one of them things,” “Something will
befall the brig on account of this,” and “It's the mate's
sperit, and sperits can't be harmed by lead or iron,” were
the sort of remarks made by the seamen, during the short
interval between the issuing the order for the fowling-piece
and its execution.

“There 't is, Cap'in Spike,” said Josh, passing the piece
up through the rigging, “but 't will no more shoot that
thing, than one of our carronades would blow up Gibraltar.”

By this time Spike was very determined, his lips being
compressed and his teeth set, as he took the gun and
cocked it. Then he hailed. As all that passed occurred,
as it might be, at once, the brig even at that moment was
little more than abreast of the immovable mate, and about
eighty yards from him.

“Light-house, there!” cried Spike—“Living or dead,
answer or I fire.”

No answer came, and no motion appeared in the dark
figure that was now very plainly visible, under a bright
moon, drawn in high relief against the glittering white of
the tower. Spike dropped the muzzle to its aim, and fired.

So intense was the attention of all in the Swash, that a
wink of Harry's could almost have been seen, had he betrayed
even that slight sign of human infirmity at the flash
and the report. The ball was flattened against a stone of
the building, within a foot of the mate's body; but he did
not stir. All depended now on his perfect immovability,
as he well knew; and he so far commanded himself, as to
remain rigid as if of stone himself.

“There! one can see how it is—no life in that being,”
said one. “I know'd how it would end,” added another.
“Nothing but silver, and that cast on purpose, will ever
lay it,” continued a third. But Spike disregarded all.
This time he was resolved that his aim should be better,
and he was inveterately deliberate in getting it. Just as he
pulled the trigger, however, Don Juan Montefalderon
touched his elbow, the piece was fired, and there stood the
immovable figure as before, fixed against the tower. Spike
was turning angrily to chide his Mexican friend for deranging
his aim, when the report of an answering musket came
back like an echo. Every eye was turned toward the

[figure description] Page 114.[end figure description]

figure, but it moved not. Then the humming sound of an
advancing ball was heard, and a bullet passed, whistling
hoarsely, through the rigging, and fell some distance to
windward. Every head disappeared below the bulwarks.
Even Spike was so far astonished as to spring in upon deck,
and, for a single instant, not a man was to be seen above
the monkey-rail of the brig. Then Spike recovered himself
and jumped upon a gun. His first look was toward
the light-house, now on the vessel's lee-quarter; but the
spot where had so lately been seen the form of Mulford,
showed nothing but the glittering brightness of the whitewashed
stones!

The reader will not be surprised to learn that all these
events produced a strange and deep impression on board
the Molly Swash. The few who might have thrown a little
light on the matter were discreetly silent, while all that
portion of the crew which was in the dark, firmly believed
that the spirit of the murdered mate was visiting them, in
order to avenge the wrongs inflicted on it in the flesh.
The superstition of sailors is as deep as it is general. All
those of the Molly, too, were salts of the old school, seadogs
of a past generation, properly speaking, and mariners
who had got their notions in the early part of the century,
when the spirit of progress was less active than it is at
present.

Spike himself might have had other misgivings, and believed
that he had seen the living form of his intended victim,
but for the extraordinary and ghost-like echo of his
last discharge. There was nothing visible, or intelligible,
from which that fire could have come, and he was perfectly
bewildered by the whole occurrence. An intention to
round-to, as soon as through the passage, down boat and
land, which had been promptly conceived when he found
that his first aim had failed, was as suddenly abandoned,
and he gave the command to board fore-tack;” immediately
after, his call was to “pack on the brig,” and not without
a little tremour in his voice, as soon as he perceived
that the figure had vanished. The crew was not slow to
obey these orders, and in ten minutes, the Swash was a
mile from the light, standing to the northward and eastward,
under a press of canvas, and with a freshening breeze.

[figure description] Page 115.[end figure description]

To return to the islets. Harry, from the first, had seen
that everything depended on his remaining motionless. As
the people of the brig were partly in shadow, he could not,
and did not, fully understand how completely he was himself
exposed, in consequence of the brightness of all around
him, and he had at first hoped to be mistaken for some accidental
resemblance to a man. His nerves were well
tried by the use of the fowling-piece, but they proved equal
to the necessities of the occasion. But, when an answering
report came from the rear, or from the opposite side of
the islet, he darted round the tower, as much taken by surprise,
and overcome by wonder, as any one else who heard
it. It was this rapid movement which caused his flight to
be unnoticed, all the men of the brig dodging below their
own bulwarks at that precise instant.

As the light-house was now between the mate and the
brig, he had no longer any motive for trying to conceal
himself. His first thought was of Rose, and, strange as it
may seem, for some little time he fancied that she had
found a musket in the dwelling, and discharged it, in order
to aid his escape. The events had passed so swiftly, that
there was no time for the cool consideration of anything,
and it is not surprising that some extravagances mingled
with the first surmises of all these.

On reaching the door of the house, therefore, Harry was
by no means surprised at seeing Rose standing in it, gazing
at the swiftly receding brigantine. He even looked for the
musket, expecting to see it lying at her feet, or leaning
against the wall of the building. Rose, however, was entirely
unarmed, and as dependent on him for support, as
when he had parted from her, an hour or two before.

“Where did you find that musket, Rose, and what have
you done with it?” inquired Harry, as soon as he had
looked in every place he thought likely to hold such an
implement.

“Musket, Harry! I have had no musket, though the
report of fire-arms, near by, awoke me from a sweet sleep.”

“Is this possible! I had imprudently trusted myself on
the other side of the light-house, while the moon was behind
clouds, and when they broke suddenly away, its light
betrayed me to those on board the brig. Spike fired at me

[figure description] Page 116.[end figure description]

twice, without injuring me; when, to my astonishment, an
answering report was heard from the islet. What is more,
the piece was charged with a ball-cartridge, for I heard the
whistling of the bullet as it passed on its way to the brig.”

“And you supposed I had fired that musket?”

“Whom else could I suppose had done it? You are
not a very likely person to do such a thing, I will own, my
love; but there are none but us two here.”

“It must be Jack Tier,” exclaimed Rose suddenly.

“That is impossible, since he has left us.”

“One never knows. Jack understood how anxious I
was to retain him with us, and he is so capricious and full
of schemes, that he may have contrived to get out of the
brig, as artfully as he got on board her.”

“If Jack Tier be actually on this islet, I shall set him
down as little else than a conjuror.”

“Hist!” interrupted Rose, “what noise is that in the
direction of the wharf? It sounds like an oar falling in a
boat.”

Mulford heard that well-known sound, as well as his
companion, and, followed by Rose, he passed swiftly
through the house, coming out at the front, next the wharf.
The moon was still shining bright, and the mystery of the
echoing report, and answering shot, was immediately explained.
A large boat, one that pulled ten oars, at least,
was just coming up to the end of the wharf, and the manner
in which its oars were unshipped and tossed, announced
to the mate that the crew were man-of-war's men. He
walked hastily forward to meet them.

Three officers first left the boat together. The gold
bands of their caps showed that they belonged to the quarter-deck,
a fact that the light of the moon made apparent
at once, though it was not strong enough to render features
distinct. As Mulford continued to advance, however, the
three officers saluted him.

“I see you have got the light under way once more,”
observed the leader of the party. “Last night it was as
dark as Erebus in your lantern.”

“The light-house keeper and his assistant have both
been drowned,” answered Mulford. “The lamps have

[figure description] Page 117.[end figure description]

been lit to-night by the people of the brig which has just
gone out.”

“Pray, sir, what brig may that be?”

“The Molly Swash, of New York; a craft that I lately
belonged to myself, but which I have left on account of her
evil doings.”

“The Molly Swash, Stephen Spike master and owner,
bound to Key West and a market, with a cargo of eight
hundred barrels of flour, and that of a quality so lively and
pungent that it explodes like gunpowder! I beg your pardon,
Mr. Mate, for not recognising you sooner. Have you
forgotten the Poughkeepsie, Captain Mull, and her farreaching
Paixhans?”

“I ought to ask your pardon, Mr. Wallace, for not recognising
you sooner, too. But one does not distinguish
well by moonlight. I am delighted to see you, sir, and
now hope that, with my assistance, a stop can be put to
the career of the brig.”

“What, Mr. Mate, do you turn against your craft?”
said Wallace, under the impulsive feeling which induces
all loyal men to have a distaste for treachery of every sort,
“the seaman should love the very planks of his vessel.”

“I fully understand you, Mr. Wallace, and will own
that, for a long time, I was tied to rascality by the opinions
to which you allude. But, when you come to hear my explanation,
I do not fear your judgment in the least.”

Mulford now led the way into the house, whither Rose
had already retreated, and where she had lighted candles,
and made other womanly arrangements for receiving her
guests. At Harry's suggestion, some of the soup was
placed over coals, to warm up for the party, and our heroine
made her preparations to comfort them also with a cup
of tea. While she was thus employed, Mulford gave the
whole history of his connection with the brig, his indisposition
to quit the latter, the full exposure of Spike's treason,
his own desertion, if desertion it could be called, the loss
of the schooner, and his abandonment on the rock, and the
manner in which he had been finally relieved. It was
scarcely possible to relate all these matters, and altogether
avoid allusions to the schemes of Spike in connection with
Rose, and the relation in which our young man himself

[figure description] Page 118.[end figure description]

stood toward her. Although Mulford touched on these
points with great delicacy, it was as a seaman talking to
seamen, and he could not entirely throw aside the frankness
of the profession. Ashore, men live in the privacy of
their own domestic circles, and their secrets, and secret
thoughts, are “family secrets,” of which it has passed into
a proverb to say, that there are always some, even in the
best of these communities. On shipboard, or in the camp,
it is very different. The close contact in which men are
brought with each other, the necessity that exists for opening
the heart and expanding the charities, gets in time to
influence the whole character, and a certain degree of
frankness and simplicity, takes the place of the reserve and
acting that might have been quickened in the same individual,
under a different system of schooling. But Mulford
was frank by nature, as well as by his sea-education, and
his companions on this occasion were pretty well possessed
of all his wishes and plans, in reference to Rose, even to
his hope of falling in with the chaplain of the Poughkeepsie,
by the time his story was all told. The fact that Rose
was occupied in another room, most of the time, had made
these explanations all the easier, and spared her many a
blush. As for the man-of-war's men, they listened to the
tale, with manly interest and a generous sympathy.

“I am glad to hear your explanation, Mr. Mate,” said
Wallace, cordially, as soon as Harry had done, “and
there's my hand, in proof that I approve of your course. I
own to a radical dislike of a turncoat, or a traitor to his
craft, Brother Hollins”—looking at the elder of his two
companions, one of whom was the midshipman who had
originally accompanied him on board the Swash—“and am
glad to find that our friend Mulford here is neither. A
true-hearted sailor can be excused for deserting even his
own ship, under such circumstances.”

“I am glad to hear even this little concession from you,
Wallace,” answered Hollins, good-naturedly, and speaking
with a mild expression of benevolence, on a very calm and
thoughtful countenance. “Your mess is as heteredox as
any I ever sailed with, on the subject of our duties, in this
respect.”

[figure description] Page 119.[end figure description]

“I hold it to be a sailor's duty to stick by his ship, reverend
and dear sir.”

This mode of address, which was used by the “ship's
gentleman” in the cant of the ward-room, as a pleasantry of
an old shipmate, for the two had long sailed together in
other vessels, at once announced to Harry that he saw the
very chaplain for whose presence he had been so anxiously
wishing. The “reverend and dear sir” smiled at the sally
of his friend, a sort of thing to which he was very well accustomed,
but he answered with a gravity and point that,
it is to be presumed, he thought befitting his holy office.

It may be well to remark here, that the Rev. Mr. Hollins
was not one of the “lunch'd chaplains,” that used to do
discredit to the navy of this country, or a layman dubbed
with such a title, and rated that he might get the pay and
become a boon companion of the captain, at the table and
in his frolics ashore. Those days are gone by, and ministers
of the gospel are now really employed to care for the
souls of the poor sailors, who so long have been treated by
others, and have treated themselves, indeed, as if they were
beings without souls, altogether. In these particulars, the
world has certainly advanced, though the wise and the
good, in looking around them, may feel more cause for astonishment
in contemplating what it once was, than to rejoice
in what it actually is. But intellect has certainly
improved in the aggregate, if not in its especial dispensations,
and men will not now submit to abuses that, within
the recollections of a generation, they even cherished. In
reference to the more intellectual appointments of a ship
of war, the commander excepted, for we contend he who
directs all, ought to possess the most capacity, but, in reference
to what are ordinarily believed to be the more intellectual
appointments of a vessel of war, the surgeon and
the chaplain, we well recollect opinions that were expressed
to us, many years since, by two officers of the highest rank
known to the service. “When I first entered the navy,”
said one of these old Benbows, “if I had occasion for the
amputation of a leg, and the question lay between the carpenter
and the doctor, d—e, but I would have tried the
carpenter first, for I felt pretty certain he would have been
the most likely to get through with the job.” “In old

[figure description] Page 120.[end figure description]

times,” said the other, “when a chaplain joined a ship, the
question immediately arose, whether the mess were to convert
the chaplain, or the chaplain, the mess; and the mess
generally got the best of it.” There was very little exaggeration
in either of these opinions. But, happily, all this
is changed vastly for the better, and a navy-surgeon is necessarily
a man of education and experience; in very many
instances, men of high talents are to be found among them;
while chaplains can do something better than play at backgammon,
eat terrapins, when in what may be called terrapin-ports,
and drink brandy and water, or pure Bob Smith.1

“It is a great mistake, Wallace, to fancy that the highest
duty a man owes, is either to his ship or to his country,”
observed the Rey. Mr. Hollins, quietly. “The highest
duty of each and all of us, is to God; and whatever conflicts
with that duty, must be avoided as a transgression of
his laws, and consequently as sin.”

“You surprise me, reverend and dear sir! I do not remember
ever to have heard you broach such opinions before,
which might be interpreted to mean that a fellow
might be disloyal to his flag.”

“Because the opinion might be liable to misinterpretation.
Still, I do not go as far as many of my friends on
this subject. If Decatur ever really said, `Our country,
right or wrong,' he said what might be just enough, and
creditable enough, in certain cases, and taken with the fair
limitations that he probably intended should accompany
the sentiment; but, if he meant it as an absolute and controlling
principle, it was not possible to be more in error.
In this last sense, such a rule of conduct might, and in old
times often would, have justified idolatry; nay, it is a species
of idolatry in itself, since it is putting country before
God. Sailors may not always be able to make the just distinctions
in these cases, but the quarter-deck should be so,
irreverend and dear sir.”

Wallace laughed, and then he turned the discourse to
the subject more properly before them.

“I understand you to say, Mr. Mulford,” he remarked,

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“that, in your opinion, the Swash has gone to try to raise
the unfortunate Mexican schooner, a second time, from the
depths of the ocean?”

“From the rock on which she lies. Under the circumstances,
I hardly think he would have come hither for the
chain and cable, unless with some such object. We know,
moreover, thut such was his intention when we left the
brig.”

“And you can take us to the very spot where that wreck
lies?”

“Without any difficulty. Her masts are partly out of
water, and we hung on to them, in our boat, no later than
last night, or this morning rather.”

“So far, well. Your conduct in all this affair will be
duly appreciated, and Captain Mull will not fail to represent
it in a right point of view to the government.”

“Where is the ship, sir? I looked for her most anxiously,
without success, last evening; nor had Jack Tier, the
little fellow I have named to you, any better luck; though
I sent him aloft, as high as the lantern in the light-house,
for that purpose.”

“The ship is off here to the northward and westward,
some six leagues or so. At sunset she may have been a
little further. We have supposed that the Swash would be
coming back hither, and had laid a trap for her, which
came very near taking her alive.”

“What is the trap you mean, sir—though taking Stephen
Spike alive, is sooner said than done.”

“Our plan has been to catch him with our boats. With
the greater draft of water of the Poughkeepsie, and the
heels of your brig, sir, a regular chase about these reefs, as
we knew from experience, would be almost hopeless. It
was, therefore, necessary to use head-work, and some man-of-war
traverses, in order to lay hold of him. Yesterday
afternoon we hoisted out three cutters, manned them, and
made sail in them all, under our luggs, working up against
the trades. Each boat took its own course, one going off,
the west end of the reef, one going more to the eastward,
while I came this way, to look in at the Dry Tortugas.
Spike will be lucky if he do not fall in with our third cutter,
which is under the fourth lieutenant, should he stand

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on far on the same tack as that on which he left this place.
Let him try his fortune, however. As for our boat, as soon
as I saw the lamps burning in the lantern, I made the best
of my way hither, and got sight of the brig, just as she
loosened her sails. Then I took in my own luggs, and
came on with the oars. Had we continued under our canvas,
with this breeze, I almost think we might have overhauled
the rascal.”

“It would have been impossible, sir. The moment he
got a sight of your sails, he would have been off in a contrary
direction, and that brig really seems to fly, whenever
there is a pressing occasion for her to move. You did the
wisest thing you could have done, and barely missed him,
as it was. He has not seen you at all, as it is, and will be
all the less on his guard, against the next visit from the
ship.”

“Not seen me! Why, sir, the fellow fired at us twice
with a musket; why he did not use a carronade, is more
than I can tell.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Wallace; those two shots were intended
for me, though I now fully comprehend why you
answered them.”

“Answered them! yes, indeed; who would not answer
such a salute, and gun for gun, if he had a chance. I certainly
thought he was firing at us, and having a musket
between my legs, I let fly in return, and even the chaplain
here will allow that was returning `good for evil.' But
explain your meaning.”

Mulford now went into the details of the incidents connected
with his coming into the moon-light, at the foot of
the light-house. That he was not mistaken as to the party
for whom the shots were intended, was plain enough to him,
from the words that passed aloud among the people of the
Swash, as well as from the circumstance that both balls
struck the stones of the tower quite near him. This statement
explained everything to Wallace, who now fully comprehended
the cause and motive of each incident.

It was now near eleven, and Rose had prepared the table
for supper. The gentlemen of the Poughkeepsie manifested
great interest in the movements of the Hebe-like little
attendant who was caring for their wants. When the cloth

[figure description] Page 123.[end figure description]

was to be laid, the midshipman offered his assistance, but
his superior directed him to send a hand or two up from
the wharf, where the crew of the cutter were lounging or
sleeping after their cruise. These men had been thought
of, too; and a vessel filled with smoking soup was taken to
them, by one of their own number.

The supper was as cheerful as it was excellent. The
dry humour of Wallace, the mild intelligence of the chaplain,
the good sense of Harry, and the spirited information
of Rose, contributed, each in its particular way, to make
the meal memorable in more senses than one. The laugh
came easily at that table, and it was twelve o'clock, before
the party thought of breaking up.

The dispositions for the night were soon made. Rose
returned to her little room, where she could now sleep in
comfort, and without apprehension. The gentlemen made
the disposition of their persons, that circumstances allowed;
each finding something on which to repose, that was
preferable to a plank. As for the men, they were accustomed
to hard fare, and enjoyed their present good-luck, to
the top of their bent. It was quite late, before they had
done “spinning their yarns,” and “cracking their jokes,”
around the pot of turtle-soup, and the can of grog that
succeeded it. By half-past twelve, however, everybody
was asleep.

Mulford was the first person afoot the following morning.
He left the house just as the sun rose, and perceiving that
the “coast was clear” of sharks, he threw off his light attire,
and plunged into the sea. Refreshed with this indulgence,
he was returning toward the building, when he met
the chaplain coming in quest of him. This gentleman, a
man of real piety, and of great discretion, had been singularly
struck, on the preceding night, with the narrative of
our young mate; and he had not failed to note the allusions,
slight as they were, and delicately put as they had
been, to himself. He saw, at once, the propriety of marrying
a couple so situated, and now sought Harry, with a
view to bring about so desirable an event, by intimating his
entire willingness to officiate. It is scarcely necessary to
say that very few words were wanting, to persuade the
young man to fall into his views; and as to Rose, he had

[figure description] Page 124.[end figure description]

handed her a short note on the same subject, which he was
of opinion, would be likely to bring her to the same way
of thinking.

An hour later, all the officers, Harry and Rose, were assembled
in what might be termed the light-house parlour.
The Rev. Mr. Hollins had neither band, gown, nor surplice;
but he had what was far better, feeling and piety.
Without a prayer-book he never moved; and he read the
marriage ceremony with a solemnity that was communicated
to all present. The ring was that which had been
used at the marriage of Rose's parents, and which she wore
habitually, though not on the left hand. In a word, Harry
and Rose were as firmly and legally united, on that solitary
and almost unknown islet, as could have been the case,
had they stood up before the altar of mother Trinity itself,
with a bishop to officiate, and a legion of attendants. After
the compliments which succeeded the ceremony, the whole
party sat down to breakfast.

If the supper had been agreeable, the morning meal was
not less so. Rose was timid and blushing, as became a
bride, though she could not but feel how much more respectable
her position became under the protection of Harry
as his wife, than it had been while she was only his betrothed.
The most delicate deportment, on the part of her
companions, soon relieved her embarrassment however, and
the breakfast passed off without cause for an unhappy moment.

“The ship's standing in toward the light, sir,” reported
the cockswain of the cutter, as the party was still lingering
around the table, as if unwilling to bring so pleasant a meal
to a close. “Since the mist has broke away, we see her,
sir, even to her ports and dead-eyes.”

“In that case, Sam, she can't be very far off,” answered
Wallace. “Ay, there goes a gun from her, at this moment,
as much as to say, `what has become of all of my
boats?' Run down and let off a musket; perhaps she will
make out to hear that, as we must be rather to windward,
if anything.”

The signal was given and understood. A quarter of an
hour later, the Poughkeepsie began to shorten sail. Then
Wallace stationed himself in the cutter, in the centre of

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one of the passages, signalling the ship to come on. Ten
minutes later still, the noble craft came into the haven,
passing the still burning light, with her topsails just lifting,
and making a graceful sweep under very reduced sail, she
came to the wind, very near the spot where the Swash had
lain only ten hours before, and dropped an anchor.