the story readable. I have no doubt as to its essential truth, nor do
I question the purpose which dominated this rover of the sea in his
effort to record the adventures of his younger life. As a picture of
those days of blood and courage, as well as a story of love and
devotion, I deem it worthy preservation, regretting only the
impossibility of now presenting it in print exactly as written by
Geoffry Carlyle.

_R.P._

CONTENTS

I Sent into Servitude

II The Prison Ship

III Dorothy Fairfax

IV The Shores of Virginia

V The Waters of the Chesapeake

VI Fairfax Speaks with Me

VII The Lieutenant Unmasked

VIII A Victory, and a Defeat

IX A Swim to the _Namur_

X On the Deck of the _Namur_

XI The Return of the Boat

XII A Friend in the Forecastle

XIII I Accept a Proposal

XIV I Warn Dorothy

XV The Cabin of the _Namur_

XVI In Dorothy's Stateroom

XVII A Murder on Board

XVIII A New Conspiracy

XIX Laying the Trap

XX The Deck Is Ours

XXI In Full Possession

XXII The Crew Decides

XXIII The Prisoners Escape

XXIV In Clasp of the Sea

XXV The Open Boat

XXVI A Floating Coffin

XXVII On Board the Slaver

XXVIII A New Plan of Escape

XXIX A Struggle in the Dark

XXX Opening the Treasure Chest

XXXI The Boat Attack

XXXII The Last of the _Namur_

XXXIII Before the Governor

WOLVES OF THE SEA

CHAPTER I

SENT INTO SERVITUDE

Knowing this to be a narrative of unusual adventure, and one which may
never even be read until long after I have departed from this world,
when it will be difficult to convince readers that such times as are
herein depicted could ever have been reality, I shall endeavor to
narrate each incident in the simplest manner possible. My only purpose
is truth, and my only witness history. Yet, even now lately as this
all happened it is more like the recollections of a dream, dimly
remembered at awakening, and, perchance, might remain so, but for the
scars upon my body, and the constant memory of a woman's face. These
alone combine to bring back in vividness those days that were--days of
youth and daring, of desperate, lawless war, of wide ocean peril, and
the outstretched hands of love. So that here, where I am writing it
all down, here amid quietness and peace, and forgetful of the past, I
wander again along a deserted shore, and sail among those isles of a
southern sea, the home for many a century of crime and unspeakable