something genteel in your cut, and you have got a head full of scholarly brains like our Captain; why you shall have my voice, as I said before, toward the making you his mate."

Clinton expressed a due sense of the proposed honour, but declined it, although it was now pressed upon him by several others of the privateers, and objected to by none, all being more or less desirous of conciliating their Captain, and of inducing him to forget the bad treatment he had lately received from their hands.

"I refuse you," said Clinton, to the privateers, “because I think I can do you better service by keeping my engagement with the Governor. The vessel which is to pursue you starts at ten to-morrow. I shall go with it; and if you will decide upon some signals by which I may make known to you our approach to your hiding places, I may prevent you from being surprised."

"You know then that we do not intend to keep on the open lake?" said the Pirate; "I am positive that I did not tell you that."

"You did not, but I surmised as much," said Clinton'; "and I do not ask to be informed in what caverns or rocks on the shores you intend to hide. You will most likely be kept on the move, for depend upon it they are keen and hardy men who will come after you; but this I ask, that wherever you hide you will light a small flame on some height that commands a view over the water, and, when our vessel is so near that I can see it, I shall warn you by three pistol discharges."

"And you will take a catholic oath," said a privateer, "not to tell the Governor's men that we are hiding where that light burns?"

"I will take oath," said Clinton, with a manner calculated to disarm all suspicion, "to say nothing that may endanger the life of my father and of those who are faithful to him. Believe me I am one of youready to assist in preserving you, although not among you."

The signal he proposed was decided upon, together with others likely to suit the different exigencies that were expected, and Clinton quickly made himself on good terms with all in the vessel. Throwing into his speeches and his deportment the fanciful gaiety which sat so well upon them, he elevated in the air a glass of brandy, which Merry, the black, had put into his hand, and wished the stout ship a clear path on the waves, no foes in her wake, and good feeling and good fellowship within her iron-bound bosom. A shout arose among the sailors-bottle after bottle of fine brandy disappeared in their hands to the same toast, with sundry hearty additions, until the Captain interfered, just as the health of himself and his son had been drunk, and forbade the circulation of a drop more. He himself had not tasted of the spirits, but looked on the sudden enthusiasm of the crew with a calculating and vigilant eye.

He recalled with authority every man to his office. The capering black became instantly still as the gun on which he sat down; old Toby threw overboard the pipe which he had just lighted, and stood with fixed attention ready to echo the Pirate's orders to any part of the ship. The important work of unmooring and floating out was done, and swift went the Fearless over the dark flood.

Just before the vessel started off, Clinton had gone

down the cabin companion-way to speak to his sister a few hurried words before quitting the vessel. He found Deborah with her in a small inner cabin, that looked very comfortable. The Irish girl was busy combing and brushing Jane's curls, and putting them in papers for the night. There being a good deal of noise about, she was chatting in a very high key, and with all her rich Hibernian brogue, while Jane rested her elbow on her knee and her head in her hand, looking

"Like patience on a monument Smiling at grief."

Neither of the two heard Clinton open the door or come in; and, as Deborah's face as well as Jane's was turned from the cabin entrance, they did not see him, until he playfully touched his sister's neck, and thus drew her attention to him. He had had an opportunity, therefore, to hear that the Irish girl was discoursing of past days, and past scenes, in which he had shared. The names of Mr. Lee, the Pastor, and poor Miss Lucy, made him slightly shudder, and he did not wonder when he saw a tear quietly stealing down Jane's cheek.

"My brother!" exclaimed the latter, rising and meeting his embrace, "have you ventured to come back?"

"Only for a few brief minutes, dear sister, to cheer you, and say adieu again. There must be no fear in your breast, mind, until I see you again. Every thing is in as good train as possible. Our father will evade every pursuer, I have no doubt, without a shot being fired, or a life being endangered. I have quite satisfied the crew of my friendly intentions, and now I am going to aid their plans of escape in a very effective manner.

"Do be careful of your own safety, and of your reputation too, my dear brother!"

"I will-believe me I will-for your sake, Jane! and when the peril which now threatens our father is safely got over, I feel persuaded that we shall be happy. We will then hide ourselves together in some quiet and pleasant home on land, unless you should forsake us for the society of Mr. Lee, you know, Jane.”

She answered his lively smile by a pensive shake of the head, and blushed.

"There is no Lucy for you now," said she.

He in his turn coloured, but his was the dye of shame and compunction-hers, of innocence.

Forgive me the allusion," said she, looking in his face with concern, while observing the confusion visible there.

"I do," said Clinton; "but never-O never, if you can avoid it-mention that name again in my hearing! I assure you I deeply repent the part I played in that affair."

"Let the remembrance of it be a check on you in future, dearest Nicholas !" said Jane, softly and with timidity.

"It shall-it shall!" said Clinton: "and you, I beseech you, erase utterly from your mind the recollection of that unworthy conversation I had with you-I mean that which proved so fatal to her you named-and all which you observed that was unpleasing in my behaviour to you while we were in the valley-forget it all."

"It is all forgotten," said Jane.

we meet again and where?"

"But when shall

"I wish that I could answer you satisfactorily," said

Clinton, "but I am sorry to say that is not in my power now. Do not let your heart sink!" he exclaimed tenderly."You trust in a ruling Providence, that guides ail events on this strange world-make it your stay now-and believe that we shall meet again, and with more peaceful prospects."

The ship now took her first movement forwards, which was done with an elastic bound, as if with joy at release from thraldom. She went as smoothly as possible, after her first spring, and as fleet and stately as a wild deer scouring some smooth prairie for its own delight.

Clinton stood still for an instant, then kissed his sister affectionately, shook hands with Deborah, told her to make herself and Jane as happy as she could, and hastened up on deck. The canoe in which he had come had been drawn up out of the water, it was now lowered. Clinton grasped the hand of his father apart, and said—

"Some hard struggles may await you-but I hope whatever happens your courage and skill will bear you well through it."

"I have no fear," said the Pirate again. "I am glad we are off, and since that is effected I am confident of escaping all who seek me, though they were ten thousand in number, while the crew keep in their present temper. You heard that Jonas and Michael have suffered death? I was compelled to make an example of them they were rank villains!" yet, as the Pirate spoke of the stern necessity, he groaned.

In another instant Clinton was in his solitary canoe. "Remember the signals!" said he to the Pirate. The latter nodded to his son, and then waved his cap until the Fearless had left the boat so far behind that, under