an experiment often made, but never yet
successful. You understand balancing accounts with the law, by showing a
broad sheet of canvas! I need say no more."

"And which of all these flags do you most use?" demanded Wilder, after a
moment of intense thought.

"As to mere sailing, I am as whimsical as a girl in her teens in the
choice of her ribbons. I will often show you a dozen in a day. Many is the
worthy trader who has gone into port with his veritable account of this
Dutchman, or that Dane, with whom he has spoken in the offing. As to
fighting, though I have been known to indulge a humour, too, in that
particular, still is there one which I most affect."

"And that is?----"

The Captain kept his hand, for a moment, on the roll he had touched, and
seemed to read the very soul of his visiter, so intent and keen was his
look the while. Then, suffering the bunting to fall, a deep, blood-red
field, without relief or ornament of any sort, unfolded itself, as he
answered, with emphasis,--

"This."

"That is the colour of a Rover!"

"Ay, it is _red_! I like it better than your gloomy fields of black, with
death's heads, and other childish scare-crows. It threatens nothing; but
merely says, 'Such is the price at which I am to be bought.' Mr Wilder,"
he added, losing the mixture of irony and pleasantry with which he had
supported the previous dialogue, in an air of authority, "We understand
each other. It is time that each should sail under his proper colours. I
need not tell you who I am."

"I believe it is unnecessary," said Wilder. "If I can comprehend these
palpable signs, I stand in presence of--of--"

"The Red Rover," continued the other, observing that he hesitated to
pronounce the appalling name. "It is true; and I hope this interview is
the commencement of a durable and firm friendship. I know not the secret
cause, but, from the moment of our meeting, a strong and indefinable
interest has drawn me towards you. Perhaps I felt the void which my
situation has drawn about me;--be that as it may, I receive you with a
longing heart and open arms."

Though it must be very evident, from what-preceded this open avowal, that
Wilder was not ignorant of the character of the ship on board of which he
had just ventured, yet did he not receive the acknowledgment without
embarrassment. The reputation of this renowned freebooter, his daring, his
acts of liberality and licentiousness so frequently blended, and his
desperat