"Well captain," inquired Julia, "is it an English vessel?"
"May be 't is – can't tell where 't was built."
"Can't you see the flag?"
"Can't make it out yet."
"Captain Horton," exclaimed the merchant, who had been watching his countenance from the moment he had descended the ratlins, "you do know something about that vessel, I am sure."
Captain Horton interrupted him by an earnest glance toward Julia, which the fair girl herself noticed.
"O! be not afraid to say any thing before me, captain. I am not easily frightened, and if you have to fight I will help you."
The bright eyes of the girl as she spoke grew brighter, and her little hand was clenched as if it held a sword.
Casting a glance of admiration toward the beautiful girl, Captain Horton leisurely filled his pipe from his waistcoat pocket, and replied as he lit it —
"Well, I'm inclined to think it's what we call a pirate, my fair lady."
"A pirate," sung out John, "a pirate, boo-hoo! oh dear! we shall all be ravaged and cooked, and eaten. O dear! why didn't I marry Susan Thompson, and go to keeping an inn – boo-hoo!"
"John," said his master, "be still, or if you must cry, go below."
The servant made a manly effort, and managed to repress his ejaculations, but could not keep back the large tears which followed each other down his cheeks in rapid succession.
"Can't you run from her, captain?" asked the merchant.
"Have you no guns aboard?" inquired Julia.
"I see you are for fighting the rascals, Miss Julia, and I own that would be the pleasantest course for me; but you see, we can't do it. The company don't allow their vessels enough fire-arms to beat off a brig half their own size – there's no way but to run for it, and these rascals always have a swift craft – generally a Baltimore clipper, which is just the fastest and prettiest vessel in the world, if those pesky Yankees do build them – but the Betsy Allen aint a slow craft, and we'll do the best we can to show 'em a clean pair of heels."
"You are to windward of them, captain," said Julia.
"Yes, that's true; but these clippers sail right in the teeth of the wind; see, now, how they've neared us – ahoy! – all hands ahoy!"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"'Bout ship, my boys – let go the jibs – lively, boys; now the fore peak-halyards. There she is – that throws the strange sail right astern; and a stern chase is a long chase."
Three or four hours of painful anxiety succeeded, when it became evident even to the unpracticed eyes of Julia and her father, that the strange vessel was slowly but surely overhauling them. Yet the brave girl showed none of the usual weakness of her sex, and even encouraged her father, who, though himself a brave man, yet trembled as he thought of the probable fate of his daughter. As for poor John, that unfortunate individual was so completely beside himself, that he wandered from one part of the vessel to the other, asking each sailor successively what his opinion of the chances of escape might be, and what treatment they might expect from the pirates after they were taken. As may be imagined, he received little consolation from the hardy tars, who, although themselves well aware of their probable fate, yet had been too long schooled in danger to show fear before the peril was immediately around them, and were each pursuing the duties of their several stations, very much as if only threatened with the usual dangers of the voyage. The unmanly fears of John even induced them to play upon his anxiety, and magnify his terror.
"Why, John," said his old friend, who had so scientifically cured him of his sea-sickness, and toward whom John evinced a kind of filial reverence, placing peculiar reliance upon every thing said by the worthy tar, "why, John, they will make us all walk the plank."
"Will they – O, dear me! and what is that, does it hurt a fellow?"
"O, no! he dies easy."
"Dies! oh, lud!"
"Why, yes! you know what walking the plank is, don't yer?"
"No I don't. O, dear!"
"Well, they run a plank over the side of the ship, and ask you very politely to walk out to the end of it."
"O, lud! and don't they let a body hold on?"
"And then when you get to the end of it, why, John, it naturally follers that it tips up, and lets you into the sea."
"And don't they help you out?"
"No, no, John! I aint joking now, by my honor; that's the end of a man, and that's where we shall go to if they get hold of us."
"O, dear me! what did I come to sea for? Well, but s'posin you wont go out on the plank, wouldn't it do just to tell 'em you'd rather not, perlitely, you know – perliteness goes a great way."
"They just blow your brains out with a pistol, that's all."
"O, lud!"
"Yes, John, that's the way they use folks."
"The bloody villains! and have we all got to walk the plank? Oh! dear Miss Julia, and all?"
"No, no, John, not her; poor girl, it would be better if she had" – and the kind-hearted tar brushed away a tear with his tawny hand.
"What! don't they kill the women, then?"
"No, no, John, they lets them live."
A sudden light shone in the eyes of John; it was the first happy expression that had flitted across his countenance since the strange sail had been discovered, and the fearful word, pirate, had fallen upon his ears.
"I have it – I have it!"
"What, John?"
But John danced off, leaving the sailor to wonder at the sudden metamorphosis in the feelings of the cockney.
"Well, that's a queer son of a lubber; I wonder what he's after now."
John, in the meantime, approached Julia, and in a very mysterious manner desired a few moments private conversation with her.
"Why, John, what can you want?" She had been no woman, if, however, her curiosity to learn the motive of so strange a request from her servant had not induced her to listen to him.
"Miss Julia," commenced John, "I've discovered a way in which we can all be saved alive by these bloody pirates, after they catch us; by all, I mean you and your father, and I, and the captain, if he's a mind to."
"Well, what is it, John?"
"I'll tell you, Miss Julia. Dick Halyard says they only kill the men – they makes all them walk the plank, which is – "
"I know what it is," said Julia, with a slight shudder.
"Well, they saves all the women, out o' respect for the weaker sex. Now, Miss Julia."
"Why, John!"
"But I know it's so, 'cause Dick Halyard told me all about it; now you see if you'll only let me take one of your dresses – I wont hurt it none; and then your father can take another, and we'll get clear of the bloody villains – wont it be great?"
Julia could not repress a laugh even in the midst of the melancholy thoughts which involuntarily arose in her mind during the elucidation of John's plan of escape; she could not, however, explain the difficulties in the way of its successful issue to the self-satisfied expounder, and finding no other more convenient way of closing the conversation, she told him he should have a woman's dress, with all the necessary accompaniments.
John was delighted.
"You'll tell your father, Miss Julia, wont you? O, Lud! we'll cheat the bloody fellows yet; I'll go and curl my hair."
Julia returned to her father's side, and silently watched the strange sail, which was evidently drawing nearer, as her dark hull had shown itself above the waters.
"We