sa_ weighed
her anchor for Old England.

A more delightful voyage it were hard to fancy. Sir George, of course,
was not a conscientious man; but he had an unaffected gaiety of
character that naturally endeared him to the young; and it was
interesting to hear him lay out his projects for the future, when he
should be returned to parliament, and place at the service of the nation
his experience of marine affairs. I asked him if his notion of piracy
upon a private yacht were not original. But he told me, no. "A yacht,
Miss Valdevia," he observed, "is a chartered nuisance. Who smuggles? Who
robs the salmon rivers of the west of Scotland? Who cruelly beats the
keepers if they dare to intervene? The crews and the proprietors of
yachts. All I have done is to extend the line a trifle; and if you ask
me for my unbiassed opinion, I do not suppose that I am in the least
alone."

In short we were the best of friends, and lived like father and
daughter; though I still withheld from him, of course, that respect
which is only due to moral excellence.

We were still some days' sail from England, when Sir George obtained,
from an outward-bound ship, a packet of newspapers; and from that fatal
hour my misfortunes recommenced. He sat, the same evening, in the cabin,
reading the news, and making savoury comments on the decline of England
and the poor condition of the navy; when I suddenly observed him to
change countenance.

"Hullo!" said he, "this is bad; this is deuced bad, Miss Valdevia. You
would not listen to sound sense, you would send that pocket-book to
that man Caulder's son."

"Sir George," said I, "it was my duty."

"You are prettily paid for it, at least," says he; "and much as I regret
it, I, for one, am done with you. This fellow Caulder demands your
extradition."

"But a slave," I returned, "is safe in England."

"Yes, by George!" replied the baronet; "but it's not a slave, Miss
Valdevia, it's a thief that he demands. He has quietly destroyed the
will; and now accuses you of robbing your father's bankrupt estate of
jewels to the value of a hundred thousand pounds."

I was so much overcome by indignation at this hateful charge and concern
for my unhappy fate that the genial baronet made haste to put me more at
ease.

"Do not be cast down," said he. "Of course, I wash my hands of you
myself. A man in my position--baronet, old family, and all that--cannot
possibly be too particular about the company he keeps. But