ld the white and fluttering habiliments of a female for a
moment at the gunwale of the stranded vessel--her descent, as it
appeared to him, nothing loth, into the boat--the arms held out to
receive, and the extension of hers to meet those offered. Could it be
Clara? Where was the reluctance, the unavailing attempts at resistance,
which should have characterised her situation? Excited by feelings
which he dared not analyse, he threw down his glass, and seizing his
sword, sprang into the boat, which was ready manned alongside, desiring
the others to follow him. For once, and the only time in his existence
when approaching the enemy, did he feel his heart sink within him--a
cold tremor ran through his whole frame, and as he called to mind the
loose morals and desperate habits of the pirates, horrible thoughts
entered his imagination. As he neared the shore, he stood up in the
stern-sheets of the boat, pale, haggard, and with trembling lips; and
the intensity of his feelings would have been intolerable but for a more
violent thirst for revenge. He clenched his sword, while the quick
throbs of his heart seemed, at every pulsation, to repeat to him his
thoughts of blood! blood! blood! He approached the small bay and
perceived that there was a female at the mouth of the cave--nearer and
nearer, and he was certain that it was his Clara--her name was on his
lips when he heard the two shots fired one after another by Hawkhurst--
he saw the retreat and fall of Francisco--when, madness to behold! he
perceived Clara rush forward, and there lay the young man supported by
her, and with his head on her bosom. Could he believe what he saw!
could she really be his betrothed! Yes, there she was, supporting the
handsome figure of a young man, and that man a pirate--she had even put
her hand into his vest, and was now watching over his reviving form.
Edward could bear no more: he covered his eyes, and now, maddened with
jealousy, in a voice of thunder, he called out:

"Give way, my lads! for your lives, give way!"

The gig was within half-a-dozen strokes of the oar from the beach, and
Clara, unconscious of wrong, had just taken the packet of papers from
Francisco's vest, when Hawkhurst made his appearance from behind the
rocks which separated the two little sandy coves. Francisco had
recovered his breath, and, perceiving the approach of Hawkhurst, he
sprang upon his feet to recover his musket; but, before he could
succeed, Hawkhu