nor to insist
on sharing his confidence. I leaned over the vessel's side and watched
the silver flashing of the two long lines of oars as they cut the waves,
and I held my peace. But in my heart there was tumult. I had seen the
glitter of a sword held in my dear love's face!--and I grew cold at the
memory. I had coquetted with the man whose sword it was!--and that
thought sent hot surges over my whole body. I shut my eyes and wished
God had made them less blue; I bit my lip because it was so red. I had
not thought, till now, that my fair face might bring danger on my
beloved.

He stood at my side, so handsome and so debonair; a goodly man to look
upon and a loyal heart to trust; not over-fervent in matters of
religion, yet never soiling his lips with a coarse oath, or his honour
with a lie! As I glanced up at him, and he bent down toward me, I
suddenly recalled the disloyal caution of our father Abraham when he
journeyed in the land of strangers; and I thought: "Surely must God
honour a man who is true to his love at any cost of danger!"

So passed the day.

It was evening when we crossed the bar and entered Matanzas Bay. The
setting sun cast a crimson glow over the waters; I thought of the blood
of the French martyrs that once stained these waves, and I shuddered.

Outlined against the western sky was the town of San Augustin,--square
walls and low, flat roofs built along a low, green shore. The
watch-tower of the castle fort rose up in menace as we came nearer.

Upon the deck of the Spanish galley, hand in hand, stood my love and I.

"Yonder is----our destination," said Mr. Rivers.

"Our prison, you would say," I answered him, "and so I think also.
Nevertheless, I would rather stand here, at your side, than anywhere
else in this wide world--_alone_!"

He smiled and raised my fingers to his lips. "Verily, dear lady, so
would I also."

There was a rattle of heavy chains, and a loud plash as the anchor
slipped down in the darkening waters.

CHAPTER VI.

We were received by the Spanish Governor immediately after our landing.

I had already pictured him, in my thoughts, as a man of commanding
presence, with keen, dark eyes set in a stern countenance; crisp,
curling locks--such as Melinza's--but silvered lightly on the temples;
an air of potency, of fire, as though his bold spirit defied the heavy
hand of time.

'Twas therefore a matter of great surprise to me--and some relief--when,
instead, I behe