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

It was on a calm May morning, about three days
prior to that of the contemplated nuptials, that the
virtuous Mr. Sharp was interrupted in the midst of a
harangue at his own breakfast-table, upon the heaven-liness
of that charity which begins at home, by a
visit from a friend of old standing, who desired to see
him forthwith, alone, and on important business. Not
a little surprised was the lawyer as, followed by the
fierce-looking Captain Ripley, he led the way into a
private apartment; for that enterprising mariner had
now been in port so long that it was scarcely probable
he could have any new bargains to offer. He was
not, however, kept long in suspense. Mr. Ripley had
called in behalf of a friend who was about to leave
the country for a season, and who, having recently
become an extensive landholder in the province, was
desirous of procuring a faithful agent to take charge
of his estates.

Mr. Sharp was delighted: Mr. Sharp took off his
spectacles and said: “Is it possible! yes—certainly—
very discreet—happy to render him any service—

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

always at the disposal of his friends,” &c., &c.; and
then Mr. Sharp put his spectacles on again, and
waited meekly for further developments. They
came. Captain Ripley was a man of few words, and
the story was soon told—as soon, that is, as the interruptions
of the awfully incensed lawyer would permit.
It is probably needless to say that Sinclair was
the capitalist alluded to by Ripley, who, knowing
nothing of the intended marriage between Egbert and
Miss Sharp, and presuming upon the iniquitous bond
of secrecy already existing between himself and Hiram,
had not hesitated to hint broadly at the means by
which his friend had acquired the Groesbeck estates.

“Mr. Ripley,” said Hiram, as soon as his rage had
subsided to the speaking point, “your friend is a
swindler, and you are his accomplice, and the property
must be refunded to Mr. Groesbeck at once, sir, or I will
arrest you both, and for far graver crimes than this.”

Sharp did not see—it would have been better for
him if he had—the demoniac scowl and baleful glare
which passed, like a cloud and a flash, across the
sailor's face.

“You talk boldly, Mr. Sharp,” he said with composure.

“I do, sir,” continued the lawyer; “I am a bold man;
it is my business to be so. And mind, sir, I will have
no parleying or delay in this matter; remember that

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

there are trees on Gibbet Island that bear such fruit
as you and your swindling companion.”

“You are a bold man,” replied Ripley; muttering a
long foreign oath, which sounded like the rattling of
shot against the inside of his teeth; “but what must
be, must be. I will talk with Sinclair about it, and
see what can be done.”

“You had better—you had better,” returned Sharp
rapidly.

“I will see you—”

“This afternoon.”

“I will;” and the sailor departed.

Manifest was Mr. Sharp's perturbation. He followed
his visitor to the door, and followed him with
his eyes far down the street, and waited anxiously for
his return. He had known nothing before of Sinclair's
connection with Ripley, and although he had long
looked upon the former as some worthless adventurer,
he had supposed him to be of a higher grade than
the pirate; for such, he did not seek to conceal from
his own mind, was Ralph. Before others he of course
scouted the idea of such a suspicion, for his own
business connection with the sailor and his companions
had of late been scarcely cloaked. His present dilemma
was therefore a serious one; for even if he
had possessed sufficient evidence for the arrest of
Ralph and his friend on so grave a charge as piracy.

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

he would, by so doing, impugn his own moral character,
a fabric which stood already on too tottering a
basis to bear any very heavy concussion. He would
also put a stop to a very lucrative business, derived
not alone from the harmless little Zephyr, Captain
Ripley, of and for Lisbon, and now lying at anchor
on the opposite side of the bay, just out of reach of
the guns of the fort; but from several other similar
craft floating under the colors of Portugal and Spain,
and visiting at times the harbor of Manhattan. Besides
all this there was, in reality, no sufficient legal
proof against either Ralph or his vessel, and he knew
very well that Lovelace would never consent to
embroil himself, uselessly, with a set of desperadoes,
who, in one way or another, would be sure to have
their revenge. He had heard, however, that outlaws
of this description were proverbially timid, beneath
all their outside swagger, and his hope lay chiefly in
the fears which he had evidently excited in Ripley's
breast. Several hours elapsed, and the day was on
the decline, when Ralph returned. A tall, stout man
he was, brown as a butternut, and sporting bushy
black whiskers and a moustache. The lawyer's mind
was wonderfully relieved on seeing him, for there
was such a good-natured, playful smile upon his face,
and his glittering teeth shone out so frankly from between
their black borders, that he felt satisfied all was

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

right. They conversed awhile apart, but the store
was thronged with people, and there was so little
room for privacy, that Hiram, at the suggestion of
his visitor, took his hat, and they sauntered slowly
down the street. The Captain talked rapidly and
seemingly to the point, for his auditor was very attentive.
He grew eloquent, indeed, and his arms flew
about like flails, and his head went bobbing in every
direction.

“My friend, Captain Sinclair,” he said, “is a gentleman
of the strictest honor, I do assure you, sir; and
he charges me to say to you, that if he could only
once have dreamed of such a thing—if he could just
have dreamed of it, sir, that your daughter was to be
married to Mr. Groesbeck, he certainly would not—
would not—have—have—”

“Fleeced him?” suggested Hiram.

“No, no, no! my dear sir, that's not the word; you
are facetious, you are, indeed, sir.”

To this and a great deal more, Sharp listened anxiously,
expecting momentarily to hear something to
the point. They had left the main thoroughfare to
avoid listeners, and were strolling through a by-street
towards the river, at a point but little frequented, and
near to which the water was fringed with a thin
growth of bushes. Hiram had been all eagerness
and delight; for he was too cunning to be taken in by

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

any professions of regard on the part of Ralph and
Sinclair, and attributed all his companion's civility to
the fright which his threats had occasioned him.
Indeed, he had been so accustomed of late to see
people cringe to him, that he had begun to fancy
himself a man of extraordinary importance. But
somehow or other there did not seem to be quite that
degree of fear manifested by his companion which he
had expected, and he recalled all his former sternness
of manner that he might re-awaken it, and bring
matters to a more speedy conclusion.

“Well, well, Mr. Ripley, this is well enough.”
he said, “but where are the deeds? These, you
know, must be returned at once.”

“The deeds—ah, yes. Captain Sinclair says—this
way a little, the walking is better,” taking a side-cut
across an unfenced field, and still towards the river
and the bushes—“Captain Sinclair says that he will
surrender them with the greatest pleasure in the
world—”

Hiram's eyes sparkled—

“Upon your paying him ten thousand guineas!”

“The scoundrel!” exclaimed Sharp, blinded again
by sudden rage; “does he dare, do you dare to make
such a proposal? Do you remember what I said to
you this morning?”

“I DO,” returned Ripley, through his teeth, and

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

letting his brawny hand fall with the clutch of a tiger
upon the shoulder of his companion; “I remember it
well,” he said, dragging the other within the cover of
the bushes: “you said there were trees on Gibbet Island
which bore such fruit as I and my swindling companion.”

The pirate's face was changed to that of a demon;
his eyes were bloodshot; his nostrils were dilated;
his cheeks were flushed; and his whole frame quivered
with the intensity of his rage.

“You, Hiram Sharp, who have fattened on my
favors—whose whole life has been full of fraud and
villainy—who yourself deserve the death of a dog—
do you talk to me about the gibbet!”

“My good sir, I didn't mean—”

“Nay, it is too late!” thundered Ralph, shaking his
victim to make him stand still.

“Really, really, my dear Captain Ripley, let us go
back,—never mind the deeds; never mind the property.”

“It is too late!”

“I will pay the ten thousand—”

“It is too late!”

A long, low whistle issued from the lips of Ralph,
and two agile seamen sprang up the bank and stood
at his side. Bound, gagged, dragged down the declivity,
and thrust into a small boat which lay

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

concealed beneath the bushes, Sharp's failing senses
became conscious only of a rapid transition across the
water, of being hoisted up the side of a ship, and
thrown, like a log, into some dark corner.

Ralph had remained on the beach, and strolling
leisurely back to the city, he took especial pains to
exhibit himself at all his accustomed places of resort.
He even called at Sharp's shop, and, not finding its
proprietor at home, patiently awaited his return,
smoking meanwhile a fantastically carved pipe, and
imbibing a liberal potation of his friend's double-reduced
Monongahela.

Hiram in the meantime remained in the dreadful
situation which has been described, a prey to the
most excruciating terror. All his efforts to move or
speak were unavailing, and the only sound that reached
his ears was an occasional coarse jibe upon his own
misfortunes, followed by fiendish laughter. Hours
elapsed, he knew not how many. The day went and
came, and there he lay. But at length there was the
sound of an approaching boat, and cheerful voices
were heard without. Somebody had come; there
was a faint gleam of hope in his breast. His son had
proved vigilant and shrewd; had suspected his fate;
had incited the governor to action; had arrested the
kidnappers, and flown, armed with official authority,
to his relief. Such was the dream of a moment,

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

and in the next, Ralph and Sinclair stood before him—
smiling! Oh, how dreadful was that smile! His
whole frame shuddered as he saw it, for it spoke of
the poniard, the gurgling waters, and the shark! He
was brought forward, and the gag was removed from
his mouth, but he could not speak. His feet were
next pinioned together, yet only by gestures could
he express his agony.

“Bring a small shot forward!” shouted Ralph.

“Aye, aye, sir,” was the quick response, and a
twelve pound ball was brought.

“Fasten it to his feet,” he said, turning away, “and
when it is quite dark, call me.”

Again the answer was prompt, and the orders were
obeyed, and Ralph and Sinclair descended to the
cabin. Hiram's senses seemed spell-bound, as it
were, by some hideous nightmare; but he recovered
his voice at length, and called faintly to one of his
guards. He came nearer.

“Do you want to be rich?” whispered the prisoner,
“very rich?—do you want gold—gold—ten thousand
real glittering guineas?”

“Yes,” said the sailor.

“Help me to escape, and you shall have it all—all—
and more.”

“There are trees on Gibbet Island, that bear such
fruit as we!” was the taunting reply.

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

It was as if some mocking demon was ever echoing
back the words of his rash threat. He was about to
renew his efforts when Ralph and Sinclair approached.
The evening had set in, and it was already sufficiently
dark to prevent any possibility of observation from
the shore. At their approach Hiram poured forth
the most frantic cries for pity, and Sinclair seemed
suddenly to relent.

“Stop, Ralph,” he said, as they were dragging their
victim to the side of the ship. “We sail in a few
weeks—let's carry the old sinner to the Pelews.”

“Yes, gentlemen, yes,” cried Sharp—“do—do—I'll
Christianize them.”

“I'll not consent to it,” exclaimed Ripley, with an
oath—“he would have hung us; let him die—I won't
consent to it.”

“Your consent won't be asked, Mr. Ripley,” returned
the other coolly. “You forget yourself, I
think—perhaps you have been a little too long on
shore.”

“Very true, Captain—it's for you to say, of course,
but it's my game, and curse me, if I think it's hardly
fair.”

“Oh, never mind, Ralph; I'll promise you he never
sets foot on these shores again, and that's enough for
our purposes.”

Poor Hiram had remained looking from one to the

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

other of his captors during this colloquy in a tumult
of dreadful emotions; but when he felt himself relieved
from the prospect of immediate death, his
delight was unbounded. The shot was removed, and
he was secured, still bound, in a small room below.