Diego; I will bring the lantern in a moment;" and
laying down the hat on the companion-way beside the pirate, who paid
no attention to the movements around him, she glided back to the
cabin.

"Here, lady," said she, "be quick--hand this lantern to the man at the
helm, and then drop silently behind him while he is lighting it. I
will immediately follow and take your place beside him. You understand
me?"

"Yes, clearly."

"Well, as soon as I begin to speak with him, let yourself down into
the boat by the painter, which I will soon cut apart, and then you
will at least be out of the hands of your enemies."

Julia took the hand of Florette in her own, and warmly thanked her,
but the girl impatiently checked her.

"Take this pistol with you also."

"But why?" inquired Julia, with a woman's instinctive dread of such
weapons.

"O, I don't mean you should shoot any body, but if the boat drifts a
little out of the brig's course, you might not be able to make
yourself heard on her deck."

"True, true."

"The night is so still that a pistol-shot would be heard at a good
distance."

"O, yes, I see it all now; I was so anxious to escape from this
terrible ship that I thought of nothing else; and there is poor John."

"You must not think of him--it will be no worse for him if you go, no
better if you remain. Here, take the lantern--say nothing as you hand
it to the man at the tiller, but do as I told you."

Pressing the hand of Florette, Julia mounted to the deck with a
painfully beating heart, but with a firm step. She handed the lantern
to the steersman, who received it surlily, growling some rough oath,
half to himself, at her delay, and leaning upon the tiller, proceeded
to relight the binnacle-lamp. Julia fell back cautiously, and in
another moment the light form of Florette filled her place.

"I was very careless, Diego," said she.

"Yes," replied he, gruffly.

"Well, I will be more careful next time."

"You'd better."

Julia, during the short time of this conversation, had disappeared
over the stern, and as the vessel was sailing before a steady wind,
found little difficulty in sliding down the painter into the yawl.
She could hardly suppress an exclamation when a moment afterward she
found the ship rapidly gliding away from her, and leaving her alone
upon the waters in so frail a support. Her situation was, indeed, one
that might well appall any of her sex. To a sailor it would already
have been one o