ew here and there
over its otherwise barren surface. In this respect it did not resemble
most of the other islands of the Pacific. Owing partly to its being out
of the usual course of ships, and partly to the dangerous reefs already
referred to, the spot was never approached by vessels, or, if a ship
happened to be driven towards it, she got out of its way as speedily as
possible.

This was the rendezvous of the pirates, and was named by them the Isle
of Palms.

Here, in caverns hollowed out of the coral rock, Gascoyne had been wont
to secrete such goods and stores as were necessary for the maintenance
of his piratical course of life, and to this lone spot did Manton convey
his prisoners after getting rid of his former commander. Towards this
spot, also, did Gascoyne turn the prow of the cutter _Wasp_ in pursuit
of his mutinous first mate.

Manton, for reasons best known to himself, (certainly not from goodness
of heart,) was kind to his captives to the extent of simply letting them
alone. He declined to hold any intercourse whatever with Captain
Montague, and forbade him to speak with the men upon pain of being
confined to his berth. The young people were allowed to do as they
pleased, so long as they kept out of the way.

On reaching the Isle of Palms the pirates at once proceeded to take in
those stores of which they stood in need. The harbour into which the
schooner ran was a narrow bay, on the shores of which the palm trees
grew sufficiently high to prevent her masts from being seen from the
other side of the island. Here the captives were landed, but as Manton
did not wish them to witness his proceedings, he sent them across the
islet under the escort of a party who conveyed them to the shores of a
small bay. On the rocks in this bay lay the wreck of what once had been
a noble ship. It was now completely dismantled. Her hull was stove in
by the rocks. Her masts and yards were gone, with the exception of
their stumps and the lower part of the main-mast, to which the main-yard
still hung with a ragged portion of the mainsail attached to it.

A feeling of depression filled the breast of Montague and his companions
as they came in sight of this wreck, and the former attempted to obtain
some information in regard to her from his conductors, but they sternly
bade him ask no questions. Some time afterwards he heard the story of
this vessel's fate. We shall record it here.

Not many months prior to the