n my hand, saved you from the fangs of the blood-hound. I
tell you, therefore, that you must not destroy that innocent child--if
you love me, you must not; for I will hate, detest, and scorn you ever
afterwards. I entreat you--I implore you to let them go: they are not
fit objects for your vengeance; and if you destroy them, I tell you, you
are a coward."

"What!" roared the tiger, "a coward!" and, no longer able to contain
himself he levelled his pistol at me and drew the trigger. It missed
fire; Vincent looked very confused--he tossed the pistol on deck, folded
his arms and turned his face away.

There was a dead silence. The negro crew looked first at me and then at
the captain, as if awaiting orders, and uncertain of the issue. The
Dutch gentleman seemed to be so lost in surprise, as to almost forget
his impending fate; while the little girl clung to him and stared at me
with her deep blue eyes. It was what on the theatres they would call a
tableau.

I followed up my advantage. Stepping forward, and placing myself before
the old man and the child, I first broke the silence.

"Captain Vincent," said I, "you did once promise me that you would never
injure me or attempt my life; that promise you have broken. Since that,
you have made me another promise--you may recollect it--which was, that
you would allow me to leave you on the first favourable opportunity;
there cannot be any opportunity more favourable than the present. The
negroes whom you are to send back to the schooner do not know how to
navigate her. I request, therefore, to know whether you intend to keep
this second promise, or to break it as you have the first? I ask my
liberty."

"If I broke my promise just now, it was your fault," replied Vincent,
coolly. "I am sorry for it, and I can say no more; I intended to keep
it, and, to prove so, I now keep my second--you may go."

"I thank you for that. I only wish that, now I leave you, I could leave
you with feelings of good-will and not of--I must say it--of horror and
disgust. Captain Vincent, once more let me beg, as a last favour, that
you will spare these poor people."

"Since you are so particularly interested about this useless old man and
still more useless child," replied Vincent, sarcastically, "I will now
make a proposal to you. You have your liberty. Do you choose to give
it up and remain here, provided I let them go away in the schooner?
Come now--take your choice; for I swea