"I would if I dared," continued the widow. "The time may come when I—"
"But why not now," urged the youth, hastily. "I am old enough, surely, to be trusted. During the four visits this man has paid to us, I have observed a degree of familiarity on his part which no man has a right to exhibit towards you; and which, did I not see that you permit it, no man would dare to show. Why do you allow him to call you 'Mary?' No one else in the settlement does so."
"He is a very old friend," replied the widow, sadly. "I have known him from childhood. We were playmates long ago."
"Humph, that's some sort of reason, no doubt; but you don't appear to like him, and his presence always seems to give you pain. Why do you suffer yourself to be annoyed by him? Only say the word, mother, and I'll kick him out of the house, neck and crop—"
"Hush, boy; you are too violent."
"Too violent! Why, it would make a coward violent to see his mother tormented as you are by this fellow, and not to be allowed to put a stop to it. I suspect—"
"Henry," said the widow, again interrupting her exasperated son, "do you think your mother would do what is wrong?"
"Mother," exclaimed the youth, seizing her hand, and kissing her brow almost violently, "I would as soon think that the angels above would do wrong; but I firmly believe that you are suffering wrong to be done to you; and—just listen to the fellow! I do not believe he's howling for more bacon at this moment!"
There could be no doubt whatever about the fact; for just then the deep tones of Gascoyne's voice rang through the cottage, as he reiterated the name of the widow, who hastened away, followed by her son. Henry scarcely took the trouble to conceal the frown that darkened his brow as he re-entered the apartment where his companions were seated.
"Why, Mary, your bacon surpasses anything I have tasted for the last six months; let's have another rasher, like a good woman. That mountain air sharpens the appetite amazingly; especially of men who are more accustomed to mount the rigging of a ship than the hills on shore. What say you, John Bumpus?"
John Bumpus could not at that moment say anything, in consequence of his mouth being so full of the bacon referred to that there was no room for a single word to pass his lips. In the height of his good-humor, however, he did his best by signs to express his entire approval of the widow's provender, and even attempted to speak. In so doing he choked himself, and continued in convulsions for the next five minutes, to the immense delight of the captain, who vowed he had never before seen such a blue face in the whole course of his life.
While this scene was enacting, and ere Jo Bumpus had effectually wiped away the tears from his eyes, and cleared the bacon out of his windpipe, the door opened, and the commander of H.M.S. Talisman entered.
Edmund Montague was a young man to hold such a responsible position in the navy; but he was a bold, vigorous little Englishman,—a sort of gentlemanly and well-educated John Bull terrier; a frank address, agreeable manners, and an utterly reckless temperament, which was qualified and curbed, however, by good sense and hard-earned experience.
"Good-day to you, Mrs. Stuart; I trust you will forgive my abrupt intrusion, but urgent business must be my excuse. I have called to have a little further conversation with your son respecting that rascally pirate who has given me so much trouble. If he will have the good ness to take a short walk with me, I shall be much indebted."
"By all means," said Henry, rising and putting on his cap.
"Perhaps," said Gascoyne, as they were about to leave the room, "if the commander of the Talisman would condescend to take a little information from a stranger, he might learn something to the purpose regarding the pirate Durward; for he it is, I presume, of whom you are in search."
"I shall be happy to gain information from any source," replied Montague, eying the captain narrowly, "Are you a resident in this island?"
"No, I am not; my home is on the sea, and has been since I was a lad."
"Ah! you have fallen in with this pirate, then, on your native ocean, I fancy, and have disagreeable cause to remember him, perchance," said Montague, smiling. "Has he given you much trouble?"
"Aye, that he has," replied Gascoyne, with a sudden scowl of ferocity. "No one in these seas has received so much annoyance from him as I have. Any one who could rid them of his presence would do good service to the cause of humanity. But," he added, while a grim smile overspread his handsome face, "it is said that few vessels can cope with his schooner in speed, and I can answer for it that he is a bold man, fond of fighting, with plenty of reckless cut-throats to back him, and more likely to give chase to a sloop-of-war than to show her his heels. I trust you are well manned and armed, Captain Montague; for this Durward is a desperate fellow, I assure you."
The young commander's countenance flushed as he replied, "Your anxiety on my account, sir, is quite uncalled for. Had I nothing but my own longboat wherewith to attack this pirate, it would be my duty to do so. I had scarcely expected to find unmanly fears exhibited in one so stalwart in appearance as you are. Perhaps it may relieve you to know that I am both well manned and armed. It is not usual for a British man-of-war to cruise in distant seas in a less suitable condition to protect her flag. And yet, methinks, one who has spent so many years of his life on salt water might know the difference between a frigate and a sloop-of-war."
"Be not so hasty, young man," answered Gascoyne, gravely; "you are not on your own quarter-deck just now. There ought to be civility between strangers. I may, indeed, be very ignorant of the cut and rig of British war vessels, seeing that I am but a plain trader in seas where ships of war are not often wont to unfurl their flags, but there can be no harm, and there was meant no offense, in warning you to be on your guard."
A tinge of sarcasm still lingered in Captain Montague's tone as he replied, "Well, I thank you for the caution. But to come to the point, what know you of this pirate,—this Durward, as he calls himself; though I have no doubt he has sailed under so many aliases that he may have forgotten his real name."
"I know him to be a villain," replied Gascoyne.
"That much I know as well as you," said Montague.
"And yet it is said he takes fits of remorse at times, and would fain change his way of life if he could," continued Gascoyne.
"That I might guess," returned the other; "most wicked men have their seasons of remorse. Can you tell me nothing of him more definite than this, friend?"
"I can tell you that he is the very bane of my existence," said Gascoyne, the angry expression again flitting for a moment across his countenance, "He not only pursues and haunts me like my own shadow, but he gets me into scrapes by passing his schooner off for mine when he is caught."
The young officer glanced in surprise at the speaker as he uttered these words.
"Indeed," said he, "that is a strange confusion of ideas. So, then, the two schooners bear so strong a resemblance as to be easily mistaken for each other?"
"They are twins. They were built at the same time, from the same molds, and were intended for the sandal-wood trade between these islands and Calcutta, Manila, and Australia. One of them, the Avenger, was seized on her first voyage by this Durward, then mate of the schooner, and has ever since scoured the South Seas as a pirate; the other, named the Foam, which I have the misfortune to command, still continues the traffic for which she was originally built."
"Ha!" exclaimed Montague, turning suddenly round with an inquiring gaze at the stalwart figure of the sandal-wood trader; "it is most fortunate that I have met with you, Mr. Gascoyne. I doubt not that you can conduct me to this vessel of yours, so that I may know the pirate when I fall in with him. If the two vessels resemble each other so closely, a sight of the Foam will be of great service to me in my search after the Avenger."
"You are most welcome to a sight of my craft," replied Gascoyne. "The only difference between the two is, that the figurehead of the pirate is a griffin's head, painted scarlet; that of my schooner is a female, painted