ted with a trophy
composed of swords, pistols, and long, murderous-looking daggers
arranged in the form of a star. A massive mahogany table, occupying the
centre of the cabin, reflected in its polished depths a handsome lamp of
white, silvery-looking metal that swung in the skylight, and the locker
underneath the trophy was occupied by a slight, youthful-looking,
sallow-complexioned man, whose well-oiled hair clustered in coal-black
ringlets all over his small, shapely head, while a pair of small,
piercing black eyes flashed out from beneath black eyebrows that ran,
unbroken, right across the root of the nose, and a set of large, even,
pearl-white teeth gleamed through a well-kept, coal-black moustache and
beard. The fellow was attired in a showy, theatrical-looking costume,
consisting of blue cloth jacket, adorned with a double row of gilt
buttons and a pair of bullion epaulettes upon the shoulders, over a
shirt of white silk, open at the throat, a sword-belt of black varnished
leather, fastened by a pair of handsome brass or gold clasps, served the
double purpose of a support for his blue cloth trousers and a receptacle
for a pair of pistols, handsomely mounted in silver. This was, of
course, Captain Renouf; and a man who looked like, and afterwards proved
to actually be, his brother sat beside him. This individual I rightly
conjectured to be the chief mate of the _Jean Bart_. Both men were
young, the captain being, perhaps, about four-and-twenty, while his
brother would be about two years younger, and both would have been
handsome but for the cruel, sinister expression of the eyes. They were
ocean dandies of the first water; for, in addition to their showy garb--
that of the junior being similar to his captain's, except that the
epaulettes were lacking,--they both wore gold ear-rings, while several
apparently valuable rings flashed upon the rather dirty fingers of the
senior officer.

The pair looked at me intently as I made my bow, and, ere I could speak
a word, Captain Renouf accosted me in French.

"Well, my good fellow," said he, "pray who may you be?"

"My name is Bowen," I answered. "I am chief officer of the British
privateer _Dolphin_, and I was in command of the boat, the occupants of
which you so humanely rescued a few days ago. Permit me, monsieur, to
express to you, without further delay, on behalf of myself and my
fellow-sufferers, our most hearty thanks for--"

"And, pray, how came you and y