as even so. This quiet little house had sheltered his childhood,
the gray-haired woman had taught him to pray, the merry girls to love.

Two families had emigrated to this island, one from Ireland, the other
from Corsica; the parents of both speedily succumbed to the foreign
climate, and the two families became united under one roof. Julietta
grew up as William's sister to become finally his affianced wife.

They were poor, and it pierced the young man to the heart to witness
their penury. He longed for a fairer fortune, and often stood on the
threshold absorbed in watching some ship vanishing across the sea. He
frequently met sailors who came on shore for fresh water, and heard of
their wonderful adventures, of countries with golden sands, of the good
luck of sailors, and when he returned home he brooded in gloomy silence
for hours.

One day he told his family that he was going to seek his fortune and,
bidding them farewell, embarked on a slave ship. Their tears at his
departure, the memory of how they followed him, renewing their farewell,
how his affianced wife, forgetting her maidenly shyness, convulsively
embraced him, covering his face with tears and kisses, sinking
unconscious on the shore as his boat tossed on the waves toward the
ship--all these things remained forever engraved on William's heart,
though Fate in after days inscribed much more upon it.

His industry and honesty made him popular upon the ship, first he became
boatswain, then mate, and was already on his way home with the wages he
had saved, already saw in imagination the home, the family for whom he
intended to win a better fate, when the ship was attacked and captured
by pirates.

William fought single-handed against ten, but in vain, superior numbers
prevailed. Knives already glittered at his throat, when the captain's
hoarse voice shouted: "The lad must not be hurt. Bring him to me alive."

The pirates seized the youth and bore him to their leader. William
looked at him in horror. It was Davis, the Sea Devil.

"You are a good fighter," said Davis in his shrill, piercing tones,
"it's a pity that you became an ordinary sailor, you would have been a
splendid pirate. Boys, give him a drink."

One of the pirates held his calabash filled with rum to William's lips,
but he turned his head away in loathing. To drink from the pirates' cups
means joining the band.

"Ha! ha!" cried the captain laughing, "You are an obstinate fellow. Have
you ev