ess by the coolness of this remark; so he
relieved himself by tightening his belt, and spouting forth volcanoes of
smoke.

Meanwhile, the cutter had run to within a short distance of the island.
The night was rendered doubly dark by the rapid spreading of those heavy
clouds which indicated the approach of a squall, if not a storm.

"This is well," said Gascoyne, in a low tone, to Henry Stuart, who stood
near him; "the worse the storm is to-night the better for the success of
our enterprise. Henry lad, I'm sorry you think so badly of me."

Henry was taken aback by this unexpected remark, which was made in a
low, sad tone.

"Can I think too badly of one who confesses himself to be _pirate_?"
said Henry.

"The confession is at least in my favor. I had no occasion to confess,
nor to give myself up to you."

"Give yourself up! It remains to be seen whether you mean to do that or
not."

"Do you not believe me, Henry? Do you not believe the account that I
gave of myself to you and your mother?"

"How can I?" said the young man, hesitatingly.

"Your mother believed me."

"Well, Gascoyne, to tell you the plain truth, I _do_ feel more than half
inclined to believe you; and I'm sorry for you; I am, from my soul. You
might have led a different life, you might even do so yet."

"You forget," said Gascoyne, smiling sadly. "I have given myself up, and
you are bound to prevent my escaping."

Henry was perplexed by this reply. In the enthusiasm of his awakened
pity he had for a moment forgotten the pirate in the penitent. Before he
could reply, however, the cutter struck violently on a rock, and an
exclamation of alarm and surprise burst from the crew, most of whom were
assembled on deck.

"Silence!" cried Gascoyne, in a deep, sonorous tone, that was
wonderfully different from that in which he had just been speaking to
Henry; "get out the boat. Arm yourselves, and jump in. There is no time
to lose."

"The cutter is hard and fast," said Henry; "if this squall does not come
on, or if it turns out to be a light one, we may get her off."

"Perhaps we may, but I have little hope of that," returned Gascoyne.
"Now, lads, are you all in the boat? Come, Henry, get in at once."

"I will remain here,", said Henry.

"For what end?" said Gascoyne, in surprise.

"The cutter belongs to a friend; I do _not_ choose to forsake her in
this off-hand manner."

"But nothing can save her, Henry."

"Perhaps not. Nevertheless, I will