ill not fail to make complaint to the Spanish
Council,--and they have no just cause for refusing to set us free. But I
trust we shall not have to wait for that. If we had a Governor of
spirit, instead of a timorous old man like Sayle, he would have already
sent the frigate down here to demand us of the Spaniards. There are not
lacking men to carry out the enterprise: Captain Brayne could scarce be
restrained from swooping down on the whole garrison--as Rob Searle did,
not long ago, when he rescued Dr. Woodward out of their clutches."

"Captain Brayne!--the frigate! Do you mean that the _Carolina_ has
arrived?"

"Two months ahead of our sloop," declared Mr. Collins; "but Governor
Sayle has despatched her to Virginia for provisions, of which we were
beginning to run short. The _Port Royal_ has not been heard of, so 'tis
feared she went down in the storm."

He went on to tell me of the new settlement which had been already laid
out at a place called Kiawah,--a very fair and fruitful country, which
Heaven grant I may one day see!

In my turn I related all that had befallen me since we reached this
place. They heard me out very gravely, and promised to contrive some
means of communicating with me in case of need.

Then, as it grew very late, we parted, promising to meet the following
night; and I crept softly back to the house and my little room, greatly
comforted that I now had a worthy gentleman like Mr. Collins with whom I
could advise; for with his knowledge of the Spanish tongue and his sound
judgment I hope he may influence the Governor in our favour.

* * * * *

The sun is setting now, I think, although I cannot see it from my
window; for all the sky without is faintly pink, and every ripple on the
bay turns a blushing cheek toward the west. I must lay by my pen and
watch for an opportunity to keep tryst at the gateway with my two good
friends....

Nine of the clock.

God help me! I waited in the garden till I heard a whistle, and stole
down to the gate as before.

A man put out his hand and caught at mine through the bars. It was that
vile Tomas--the wretch who would have murdered my dear love! I screamed
and fled, but he called after me in Spanish. The words were strange to
me--but the tones of his voice and the coarse laughter needed no
interpreter!

As I flew across the garden, too frightened to attempt concealment, Dona
Orosia stepped out into the courtyard and demande