a struggle was going on within him. Suddenly he stood erect, and
said, firmly:

"Be it so, Gascoyne. I will hold you to your promise. You shall _not_
escape me!"

With this somewhat singular reply, Henry left his surprised companion,
and mingled with the crowd of men who stood on the quarter-deck.

A light breeze had now sprung up, and the Foam was gliding rapidly
towards the island. Gascoyne's deep voice was still heard at intervals
issuing a word of command, for, as he knew the reefs better than any one
else on board, Montague had intrusted him with the pilotage of the
vessel into harbor.

When they had passed the barrier-reef, and were sailing over the calm
waters of the enclosed lagoon in the direction of Sandy Cove, the young
officer went up to the pirate captain with a perplexed air and a degree
of hesitation that was very foreign to his character.

Gascoyne flushed deeply when he observed him. "I know what you would say
to me," he said, quickly. "You have a duty to perform. I am ready."

"Gascoyne," said Montague, with deep earnestness of tone and manner, "I
would willingly spare you this, but, as you say, I have a duty to
perform. I would, with all my heart, that it had fallen to other hands.
Believe me, I appreciate what you have done within the last few days,
and I believe what you have said in regard to yourself and your career.
All this, you may depend upon it, will operate powerfully with your
judges. But you know I cannot permit you to quit this vessel a _free
man_."

"I know it," said Gascoyne, calmly.

"And--and--" (here Montague stammered and came to an abrupt pause).

"Say on, Captain Montague. I appreciate your generosity in feeling for
me thus; but I am prepared to meet whatever awaits me."

"It is necessary," resumed Montague, "that you be manacled before I take
you on shore."

Gascoyne started. He had not thought of this. He had not fully realized
the fact that he was to be deprived of his liberty so soon. In the
merited indignity which was now to be put upon him, he recognized the
opening act of the tragedy which was to terminate with his life.

"Be it so," he said, lowering his head, and sitting down on a carronade,
in order to avoid the gaze of those who surrounded him.

While this was being done, the youthful Corrie was in the fore part of
the schooner whispering eagerly to Alice and Poopy.

"O Alice! I've seen him!" exclaimed the lad.

"Seen who?" inquired Alice, raising her