a dark cloak,
that, muffled closely round the face, and surmounted by a slouched hat,
worn at the time by both Cavalier and Roundhead, effectually concealed
the person from recognition. He held the youth in so iron a grasp, that
motion was almost impossible; and while the moon came forth and shone
upon them in all her majesty, the two who contended beneath her light
might have been aptly compared, in their strength and weakness, to the
mighty eagle overcoming the feeble leveret.

The stranger was the first to speak, as motioning with his disengaged
hand towards the revolving light that hung in the vessel's bow, he
inquired,--

"What colours does that ship carry?"

"Her master's, I suppose."

"And who is her master?"

"The man she belongs to."

"She's a free-trader then?"

"The sea is as free to a free ship, as the land to a free man, I take
it."

"Reptile! dare you barter words with me?--Your commander's name?"

The boy made no answer.

"Dost hear me? Your commander's name?" and as the question was repeated,
the mailed glove of the interrogator pressed painfully into Springall's
flesh, without, however, eliciting a reply.

"He has a name, I suppose?"

"That you, or any cowardly night-walker, would as soon not hear; for it
is the name of a brave man," replied the youth at last, struggling
violently, but ineffectually, to reach the whistle that was suspended
round his neck.

"Fool!" exclaimed the stranger, "dost bandy strength as well as words?
Learn that in an instant I could drop thee into the rolling ocean, like
the egg of the unwise bird." He raised the youth from the earth, and
held him over the precipice, whose base was now buried in the wild waste
of waters, that foamed and howled, as if demanding from the unyielding
rock a tribute or a sacrifice.

"Tell me thy master's name."

The heroic boy, though with certain death before him, made no reply. The
man held him for about the space of a minute and a half in the same
position: at first he struggled fiercely and silently, as a young wolf
caught in the hunter's toils; yet fear gradually palsied the body of the
unconquered mind, and his efforts became so feeble, that the stranger
placed him on his feet, saying,--

"I wish not to hurt thee, child!" adding, in a low and broken voice,
"Would that the Lord had given unto me sons endowed with the same
spirit! Wilt tell me thy own name?"

"No! If you are a friend, you know our pass-word; if a foe, you