Ay! whether it's a fine lass, or what not, plank it down, and
enjoy yourself while ye can. That's what _I_ say. What's the sense o'
waiting till a man's too old? And I'm not so young as I was, thinks
Missie, eh? But let me tell you, there's many a fine lass, yet, that
would snap me up if she had the chance, if it was only for the sake of
the ducats. Now, when I was in the Spanish Main--hey! _that_ was the
place!--I mind...."

But what he "minded" Helen had no wish to hear, and she retired, leaving
her father and the stranger, both rapidly becoming somewhat over-loose
of speech under the influence of brandy.

"A likely wench!" cried the stranger as the door closed. "A likely
wench, sir. He'll be a lucky dog that get's her. Now ... ah!... hum!...
here's you, an old man, leaving this place--and not likely to get
another, says you; and here's me, a bachelor, or anyways a widower, with
plenty of cash and wanting a wife. Come I what's against our making a
bargain? You give me your daughter, and I'll see that you don't want a
home. Eh? What do you say to that, now?"

It was not very delicately put, but neither were the times very
delicate, and the upshot was that Helen's father, weak and selfish,
agreed to use his influence towards bringing the marriage about. The
stranger did not tell--and perhaps it would have made little difference
if he had told--his full history; how as a boy in London, the son of a
petty tradesman, he had been kidnapped and sold to the Plantations (a
common enough fate in those days); how in the West Indies, after a
varied and not over reputable career, in which buccaneering played no
small part, he had at length persuaded the wealthy old widow of a
planter to marry him; and how, when she had suddenly ended her days, in
a way which gave rise to more than a little talk in the island, he had
sold the estate and the slaves without haggling much over the price, and
had abruptly left for England, where--the talk ran--he meant to settle
down and found a family.

Helen's scornful rejection of the proposal at first was scathing, and
little less her scorn of a parent who could urge it. "It's to save me
from want, and from worse than want," he whimpered. Finally, ere many
days had passed, wearied by her father's importunity, she gave her
consent.

A pair more ill-matched could not have been found; the man by nature
coarse, brutal, and cowardly; the woman, insolent, fearless, and of
ungoverned temper. From th