ing the hospitality he extended, by seizing her in the old
buccaneer fashion. The impression she had made upon him had been
lasting, and when he found himself alone, an outlaw, all his dreams of
the future centered about his woman.

He would carry out the plans which he had outlined to his men, but the
Pearl of Caracas, for so Donna Mercedes was called, must accompany him
to the South Seas to be the Island Queen of that Buccaneer Empire of
which he was to be the founder. That Donna Mercedes might object to this
proposition; that she might love another man, might even be married by
this time, counted for nothing in Morgan's plans. He had taken what he
wanted by dint of his iron will and the strength of his right arm in the
past and he should continue the process in the future. If the hand of
man could not turn him, certainly the appeal of woman would avail
nothing.

Consequently he was most reluctant that morning, for his passion had
increased with each o'er-run league of sea, to bear away from La Guayra,
which was the port of entry for Caracas; but even his ardent spirit was
at last convinced of the necessity. It was blowing a gale now and they
were so near the shore, although some distance to the eastward of the
town, that they could see the surf breaking with tremendous force upon
the strip of sand. The officers and older men had observed the course of
the ship with growing concern, but no one had ventured to remonstrate
with Morgan until old Ben Hornigold as a privileged character finally
summoned his courage and approached him.

"Mark yon shore, Captain Morgan," he said, and when he made up his mind
he spoke boldly. "The wind freshens. We're frightfully near. Should it
come on to blow we could not save the ship. You know how unseamanly
these Spanish hulks are."

"Right you are, Hornigold," answered Morgan, yet frowning heavily.
"Curse this wind! We must claw off, I suppose."

"Ay, and at once," cried Hornigold. "See, the wind shifts already! It
blows straight from the north now."

"Hands by the braces there!" shouted Morgan, following with apprehension
the outstretched finger of the old boatswain. "Ease down the helm. Brace
up. Lively, lads!"

In a few moments the great ship, her yards braced sharply up, was headed
out to seaward on the starboard tack. The wind was now blowing a whole
gale and the masts of the ship were bending like whips.

"We'll have to get sail off her, I'm thinking, Hornigold," said Mor