"Then the best way," said the Pirate, "to do that, will be to relate to you the history of my past life. You say you can stop here until dusk; we have, therefore, eight hours to spare, and surely I shall be able to open all my budget to you during that time. But I must have another listener."

The Pirate here went to a door that opened into an inner cabin, and called aloud-" Jenny-Jenny Anderson."

"What!-can Miss Anderson be here!" exclaimed

Clinton.

"Captain," said our former Irish acquaintance, putting her head in at the door, "Miss Jane will be in to ye in a half a quarter of a minute, if you plase."

"And Deborah here too!-what wonder next!" exclaimed Clinton.

Deborah nodded her head to the latter, by way of recognition, and then withdrew it.

The Pirate leaned his elbow on the mantle-piece, and fixed his eyes sorrowfully on Clinton.

"I am astonished," said he, "that I did not recognise you before. Now, every feature, every expression upon your face reminds me of her whom I never truly valued until I had lost-of her who was an angel on my wild path, and whose instructions and principles, had I followed them, would have conducted me safe through the dangerous seas, in which, since her death, I have shipwrecked honour, conscience, and hope Yes, you are indeed like her! She had just your figure too, only, of course, more feminine. How strange to think I should not have known you before!"

Just as he was speaking this, a loud and confused

noise was heard over head, and the captain, hastily begging to be excused a few minutes, hurried on deck to see the cause of the disturbance. He did not return for a quarter of an hour, and during this space, Jane Anderson entered. Deborah had informed her that Clinton was here, she did not, therefore, show much surprise at seeing him. She somewhat coolly met his warm greeting, and sat down on the sofa, as he occupied a chair near her.

"I accidentally learnt," said he, "that you were the daughter of the-the Pirate, as we must call him, before I left the valley, but I have yet to learn how he escaped, and how, and where it happened that you joined him." "And I," said Jane, "cannot tell how it is I see you here on amicable terms with my father."

"To tell you the truth," said Clinton, "I had just agreed with the Lieutenant-Governor to assist in the search after the captain, and was walking on the peninsula beach, when I saw the very man whose capture I was meditating, and he made a mysterious assertion, which he is now to give mé proofs of. He says, Jane, that the picture which I lost on board Captain Barry's vessel, was the picture of his wife. Now I know that it was a genuine resemblance of my mother-and what follows." "This is too strange for belief," said Jane, yet at the same time looking at the features of Clinton with anxious curiosity. "I cannot think that you are my brothermy brother, what an idea!"

"Your brother he certainly is," said the Pirate, reentering; "fetch a looking glass, and examine your features both of you, in it, and compare them with the picture of your lamented mother."

Jane fetched a hand-mirror, and the picture Clinton

had lost was laid on the table. Smiles were exchanged as each, in turn, presented a face for the reflection of the mirror.

"Really we three do look to have a family likeness to each other," said Clinton; " and this portrait certainly would pass for that of the mother of Miss Anderson. The mouth is exactly yours, Jane."

"And the eyes are strikingly like yours," said Jane; "and see, father, the shape of the forehead, yes, you must be my brother;" and in her joy at having found a relative so long dreamt of, she 'caught his hand, and pressed it fondly to her heart.

"My sister—my dear sister! from this hour you have in me a friend and protector," said Clinton, kissing her cheek with great tenderness.

The Pirate looked on his children with feelings of the strongest kind.

"Nicholas!" he exclaimed, at length giving vent to his emotions. Nicholas, my son! guilty as I am, and crave it, and I feel

However bad you

unworthy of my children's love, I do it the only pleasure of my existence. know me to be, therefore, do not set me down as being without natural affection. Do not utterly despise and abhor me, Nicholas !"

"Father!" exclaimed Clinton, "for now I do not doubt you to be my parent, believe me, though I have seen but half your years, I have lived as wild, and reckless, and bad a life as yourself-perhaps worse indeed. If I meet an erring father, you meet an erring son. But for Jane's sake-for my sister's sake, father, we must both amend."

"Oh!” cried Jane, "how great will be our happiness

if my father will be persuaded to leave the way of life he is now in! Try-try, brother, to persuade him!" The mild eyes of the speaker, eloquent with persuasive tears, were turned to the face of the Pirate, and she caught at the belief that she should now gain her dearest wish. The Pirate, anxious not to damp her spirits, replied

"Don't agitate yourself, my Jenny; all will be right some day or other. Nicholas and I will talk the matter over by ourselves; but now let us have a glass of wine or two togetner, and then for my story."

While the Pirate was bringing upon the table some of the same delicious liquor which had been so approved by the inmates of the Paster's lodge, Jane whispered to Clinton, "Do not give up the point-do not rest until vou have induced him to forsake the evil men he is now associated with."

Clinton warmly assured her he would do his best; and the Pirate handed to each an antique and costly wine-cup, which he told them with a sigh, had once graced a richer board than any he had sat down to for a long period.

This introduced the expected story of the Pirate's past life, which he told in nearly the following words:"The adventures I have passed through, my dear children, are toc many for me to relate in full. I must, therefore, confine myself to the most important; and, to speak the truth, some of them it would pain me too much to dwell upon. I was the only child of poor and very young parents, who died in my infancy, and left me without home or friends. In this state I was taken into an indigent relative's cabin, and lived there in a halfstarved condition; until my third year; the cabin stood

on the extensive seignorie of a very rich man of solitary and eccentric habits; he was accustomed to take long walks and rides alone, but never had been known to pass the boundaries of his estate. There was not a hut, however insignificant, tenanted from him, that he did not visit at stated intervals with the most precise regularity. He always inquired at such visits into the wants of all the inmates, and never failed to leave a blessing behind him. Sometimes he had the small buildings repaired, or he erected convenient outhouses, or put in windows; sometimes he gave the cottager a stout beast of burden, or an additional piece of ground, or a stock of homely blankets and winter furs, or a fishing boat. But his aim was not to prevent the necessity of forethought and industry on the part of the peasant, but to assist and reward them. The woman with whom I was, he had visited duly for three years, but had bestowed little on her, for she was not a very worthy character, and her temper was as deplorable as her habits, but at the end of the third year, to her great astonishment, he told her that he would remove from her one who was evidently a cause of misery to her, the little urchin she had taken out of charity, and that he would have the boy provided for at his own expense. I was thereupon removed to a large and ancient baronial house; a man of learning was in a few years hired to inform me in languages and the sciences; a yearly provision was legally made over to me upon certain singular conditions, and the bulk of his fortune, and his noble residence, were secured to me at his death. Would you think it possible, my children, that with such advantages, and with such intellects as I possessed, I could be unhappy? Yet,