he sandal-wood trade between these islands and
Calcutta, Manila, and Australia. One of them, the Avenger, was seized on
her first voyage by this Durward, then mate of the schooner, and has
ever since scoured the South Seas as a pirate; the other, named the
Foam, which I have the misfortune to command, still continues the
traffic for which she was originally built."

"Ha!" exclaimed Montague, turning suddenly round with an inquiring gaze
at the stalwart figure of the sandal-wood trader; "it is most fortunate
that I have met with you, Mr. Gascoyne. I doubt not that you can conduct
me to this vessel of yours, so that I may know the pirate when I fall in
with him. If the two vessels resemble each other so closely, a sight of
the Foam will be of great service to me in my search after the
Avenger."

"You are most welcome to a sight of my craft," replied Gascoyne. "The
only difference between the two is, that the figurehead of the pirate is
a griffin's head, painted scarlet; that of my schooner is a female,
painted white. There is also a red streak round the sides of the pirate;
the hull of the Foam is entirely black."

"Will you come on board my vessel, and accompany me in one of my boats
to yours?" inquired Montague.

"That is impossible," replied Gascoyne. "I came here on urgent business,
which will not brook delay; but my schooner lies on the other side of
the island. If you pull round, my mate will receive you. You will find
him a most intelligent and hospitable man. He will conduct you over the
vessel, and give you all the information you may desire. Meanwhile,"
added the captain of the Foam, rising and putting on his cap, "I must
bid you adieu."

"Nay, but you have not yet told me when or where you last saw or heard
of this remarkable pirate, who is so clever at representing other
people; perhaps I should rather say misrepresenting them," said
Montague, with a meaning smile.

"I saw him no longer ago than this morning," replied Gascoyne, gravely.
"He is now in these waters, with what intent I know not, unless from his
unnatural delight in persecuting me, or, perhaps, because fate has led
him into the very jaws of the lion."

"Humph! he will find that I bite before I roar, if he does get between
my teeth," said the young officer.

"Surely you are mistaken, Gascoyne," interposed Henry Stuart, who, along
with John Bumpus, had hitherto been silent listeners to the foregoing
conversation. "Several of our people hav