artright's wharf at the foot
of Beaver Street. There Barnaby and the boatmen assisted the young lady
ashore, and our hero and she walked up through the now silent and
deserted street to Mr. Hartright's house.

You may conceive of the wonder and amazement of our hero's dear
step-father when aroused by Barnaby's continued knocking at the street
door, and clad in a dressing-gown and carrying a lighted candle in his
hand, he unlocked and unbarred the door, and so saw who it was had aroused
him at such an hour of the night, and beheld the young and beautiful
lady whom Barnaby had brought home with him.

The first thought of the good man was that the _Belle Helen_ had come
into port; nor did Barnaby undeceive him as he led the way into the
house, but waited until they were all safe and sound together before he
should unfold his strange and wonderful story.

"This was left for you by two foreign sailors this afternoon, Barnaby,"
the good man said, as he led the way through the hall, holding up the
candle at the same time, so that Barnaby might see an object that stood
against the wainscoting by the door of the dining-room.

It was with difficulty that our hero could believe his eyes when he
beheld one of the treasure-chests that Sir John Malyoe had fetched with
such particularity from Jamaica.

He bade his step-father hold the light nigher, and then, his mother
having come down-stairs by this time, he flung back the lid and
displayed to the dazzled sight of all the great treasure therein
contained.

You are to suppose that there was no sleep for any of them that night,
for what with Barnaby's narrative of his adventures, and what with the
thousand questions asked of him, it was broad daylight before he had
finished the half of all that he had to relate.

The next day but one brought the _Belle Helen_ herself into port, with
the terrible news not only of having been attacked at night by pirates,
but also that Sir John Malyoe was dead. For whether it was the sudden
fright that overset him, or whether it was the strain of passion that
burst some blood-vessel upon his brain, it is certain that when the
pirates quitted the _Belle Helen_, carrying with them the young lady
and Barnaby and the travelling-trunks, they left Sir John Malyoe lying
in a fit upon the floor, frothing at the mouth and black in the face,
as though he had been choked. It was in this condition that he was
raised and taken to his berth, where, the next mo