ble or articulate
consent. The delighted seaman caught her in his arms, and pressed kiss
after kiss upon the lips of the struggling, blushing girl.

"Remember, love," said he, as they parted, "be punctual here three
nights hence. I will have horses ready at the end of the street, and
before day dawns you shall be safe."

There was still one thing to be done, and that was to obtain the consent
of Captain Hazard, who, though an excellent, kind-hearted man in the
main, had some rather old-fashioned notions of propriety, especially in
outward form, and would, as Morton knew full well, have very serious
objections to advance against such a mad scrape; but he trusted to the
fondness of the good old seaman towards him, and his own upright and
honorable intentions, to overthrow all the veteran's scruples.

CHAPTER VIII.

On the morning of the day that the above arrangement was made by the
parties concerned, Captain Hazard observed that Morton had despatched
his breakfast very hastily, and was on deck, waiting for his boat's crew
to finish their meal, long before the Captain and Mr. Coffin had shown
any symptoms of pausing in their discussion of salt beef, coffee, and
pilot bread.

"What can be the matter with Mr. Morton lately?" said the old seaman to
his second officer; "he was never so fond of going ashore anywhere else,
and now here he's off and into his boat, like a struck black-fish."

"Why, I some expect," said Coffin, "there's a petticoat in the wind."

"The devil! who?"

"Well, I rather guess it's that pretty blue-eyed, English-looking girl,
that came on board with old Don Blow-me-down, when he first came in
here."

"Ah! I recollect her. I thought Morton seemed to take a shine to her."

"They say she's Don Strombolo's niece."

"They may tell that to the marines; she don't look no more like the rest
on 'em than the devil looks like a parson."

"I don't know" said Coffin gravely, "how the devil looks; but they say
he can put on the appearance of an angel of light, and I don't see why
'taint jist as easy for him to put on a black coat, and come the parson
over us poor sinners."

"Well, well; she's a sweet pretty girl, and looks kind o' as though she
wasn't over and above in good spirits."

"Well, now; I some guess I know a little something about that."

"Why how the d---- did _you_ come to make yourself busy?"

"Why, you see, there's an old woman keeps a _pulparia_[3] close to the
old Don's rook