that he seats
himself in the Don's chair, pokes up the fire with his boots, and spits
on the hearth.

The Don graciously places a chair for Mr. Hopkins, rings the bell, and
seats himself. Then after a few civilities while the bottle was being
opened and our glasses filled, he says:

"You have doubtless heard from Robert Evans the purpose of our coming
hither, Mr. Hopkins."

"Roughly," replies Mr. Hopkins, with a dry little cough. "But I should
be glad to have the particulars from you, that I may judge more clearly
of my responsibilities in this undertaking."

"Oh, Lord!" exclaims Evans, in disgust. "Here give us a pipe of tobacco
if we're to warp out half a day ere we get a capful of wind."

CHAPTER V.

_Don Sanchez puts us in the way of robbing with an easy conscience._

Promising to make his story as short as he possibly could, Don Sanchez
began:

"On the coming of our present king to his throne, Sir Richard Godwin was
recalled from Italy, whither he had been sent as embassador by the
Protector. He sailed from Livorno with his wife and his daughter Judith,
a child of nine years old at that time, in the Seahawk."

"I remember her," says Evans, "as stout a ship as ever was put to sea."

"On the second night of her voyage the Seahawk became parted from her
convoy, and the next day she was pursued and overtaken by a pair of
Barbary pirates, to whom she gave battle."

"Aye, and I'd have done the same," cries Evans, "though they had been a
score."

"After a long and bloody fight," continues Don Sanchez, "the corsairs
succeeded in boarding the Seahawk and overcoming the remnant of her
company."

"Poor hearts! would I had been there to help 'em," says Evans.

"Exasperated by the obstinate resistance of these English and their own
losses, the pirates would grant no mercy, but tying the living to the
dead they cast all overboard save Mrs. Godwin and her daughter. Her lot
was even worse; for her wounded husband, Sir Richard, was snatched from
her arms and flung into the sea before her eyes, and he sank crying
farewell to her."

"These Turks have no hearts in their bellies, you must understand,"
explains Evans. "And nought but venom in their veins."

"The Seahawk was taken to Alger, and there Mrs. Godwin and her daughter
were sold for slaves in the public market-place."

"I have seen 'em sold by the score there," says Evans, "and fetch but an
onion a head."

"By good fortune the mother and daught