yone else that I ever heard tell
of.

It was nigh midnight when they made Mr. Hartright's wharf at the foot
of Wall Street, and so the streets were all dark and silent and
deserted as they walked up to Barnaby's home.

You may conceive of the wonder and amazement of Barnaby's dear
stepfather when, clad in a dressing gown and carrying a lighted candle
in his hand, he unlocked and unbarred the door, and so saw who it was
had aroused him at such an hour of the night, and the young and
beautiful lady whom Barnaby had fetched with him.

The first thought of the good man was that the _Belle Helen_ had come
into port; nor did Barnaby undeceive him as he led the way into the
house, but waited until they were all safe and sound in privity
together before he should unfold his strange and wonderful story.

"This was left for you by two foreign sailors this afternoon,
Barnaby," the good old man said, as he led the way through the hall,
holding up the candle at the same time, so that Barnaby might see an
object that stood against the wainscoting by the door of the dining
room.

Nor could Barnaby refrain from crying out with amazement when he saw
that it was one of the two chests of treasure that Sir John Malyoe had
fetched from Jamaica, and which the pirates had taken from the _Belle
Helen_. As for Mr. Hartright, he guessed no more what was in it than
the man in the moon.

The next day but one brought the _Belle Helen_ herself into port, with
the terrible news not only of having been attacked at night by
pirates, but also that Sir John Malyoe was dead. For whether it was
the sudden shock of the sight of his old captain's face--whom he
himself had murdered and thought dead and buried--flashing so out
against the darkness, or whether it was the strain of passion that
overset his brains, certain it is that when the pirates left the
_Belle Helen_, carrying with them the young lady and Barnaby and the
traveling trunks, those left aboard the _Belle Helen_ found Sir John
Malyoe lying in a fit upon the floor, frothing at the mouth and black
in the face, as though he had been choked, and so took him away to his
berth, where, the next morning about ten o'clock, he died, without
once having opened his eyes or spoken a single word.

As for the villain manservant, no one ever saw him afterward; though
whether he jumped overboard, or whether the pirates who so attacked
the ship had carried him away bodily, who shall say?

Mr. Hartright