hat he was now
the most miserable man in the world.

It was at this moment, so tragic for him, that some one who had been
hiding nigh them all the while suddenly moved away, and Barnaby True
could see in the gathering darkness that it was that villain
manservant of Sir John Malyoe's and knew that he must have overheard
all that had been said.

The man went straight to the great cabin, and poor Barnaby, his brain
all atingle, stood looking after him, feeling that now indeed the last
drop of bitterness had been added to his trouble to have such a wretch
overhear what he had said.

The young lady could not have seen the fellow, for she continued
leaning over the rail, and Barnaby True, standing at her side, not
moving, but in such a tumult of many passions that he was like one
bewildered, and his heart beating as though to smother him.

So they stood for I know not how long when, of a sudden, Sir John
Malyoe comes running out of the cabin, without his hat, but carrying
his gold-headed cane, and so straight across the deck to where Barnaby
and the young lady stood, that spying wretch close at his heels,
grinning like an imp.

"You hussy!" bawled out Sir John, so soon as he had come pretty near
them, and in so loud a voice that all on deck might have heard the
words; and as he spoke he waved his cane back and forth as though he
would have struck the young lady, who, shrinking back almost upon the
deck, crouched as though to escape such a blow. "You hussy!" he bawled
out with vile oaths, too horrible here to be set down. "What do you do
here with this Yankee supercargo, not fit for a gentlewoman to wipe
her feet upon? Get to your cabin, you hussy" (only it was something
worse he called her this time), "before I lay this cane across your
shoulders!"

What with the whirling of Barnaby's brains and the passion into which
he was already melted, what with his despair and his love, and his
anger at this address, a man gone mad could scarcely be less
accountable for his actions than was he at that moment. Hardly knowing
what he did, he put his hand against Sir John Malyoe's breast and
thrust him violently back, crying out upon him in a great, loud,
hoarse voice for threatening a young lady, and saying that for a
farthing he would wrench the stick out of his hand and throw it
overboard.

Sir John went staggering back with the push Barnaby gave him, and then
caught himself up again. Then, with a great bellow, ran roaring at