tion of the wildest rage and disappointment at being thus foiled a third time. Snatching a pistol from the belt of a seaman near him, he sprung upon the bulwark.

All were now gazing over the side of the vessel from which the hardy sailor had leapt, but not a sign of him was visible. Darkness, which was now fast settling down upon the water, would soon prevent any object so small as a human head from being seen at more than a very short distance from the vessel. With straining eyes the Captain scanned the water in all directions in search of his victim. But nothing could be discovered above the surface indicating in the least the presence of the swimmer.

"By heavens! if he gets off, the brigantine must leave these waters sooner than I wished," exclaimed the Captain, fiercely. "But he What is that?" he muttered suddenly to himself, as he peered through the gathering darkness at a small object upon the water nearly astern of the vessel, but within easy range for the pistol. Levelling his weapon, he fired at the object he had discovered before anyone on board was aware of his intention. The report of the pistol rung out sharp and clear upon the water, and all eyes turned in the direction in which he had tired. At that instant, the small object which had been the Captain's mark, rose from the water, discovering what seemed, in the deepening twilight, to be the head and arms of a man struggling in the agonies of death. The struggles were but momentary, and the victim sank out of sight the instant after. All eyes eagerly watched for his re-appearance, but there was no sign of him again. All on board felt sure who it was who had thus fallen a victim to the inhuman act of the Captain, but not a word was uttered by the crew.

"He'll tell no tales now, I'll be sworn," said the Captain with a wild sort of chuckle, as he leaped back on the deck. "Yet I'll be sure of it," he added, as if still uncertain of his victim's fate.

Ordering a boat to be lowered, an order quickly obeyed, and saying a few words in an undertone to a ruffianly-looking sailor, he jumped into the gig, and left the brigantine. The seaman to whom he had spoken, and who was a powerful-looking man, approached, and said a few words in a low tone to several of the worst-looking of the crew, who nodded an assent to what he said.

There was a sudden movement among them, and, in a moment, a general scuffle ensued on the decks of the vessel. It lasted but a few seconds, in which time nearly a score of men were bound and thrown on the decks. It was now too dark to distinguish who they were, and they were gagged to prevent any outcry.

In a few minutes more these men were removed from the deck to the hold, and left there, bound, in the darkness.

All was now as still and silent as the night on board the brigantine, where, but a few moments before, the murderous and mysterious scenes were enacted which we have just detailed. It was half-an-hour after the boat had left the vessel ere she returned. As the Captain touched the deck, he called the name of Marley.

Ay, ay!" was the answer returned; and in a moment he was joined by the man he had spoken with, ere leaving the vessel.

"Have you done as I ordered, Marley? Have you secured them below?"

"Yes, they are all right; bound, gagged, and under hatches," answered he.

"That is well; but they can't stay there, Marley. The owners will be aboard in the morning. Somehow, we must get them ashore to-night, and keep them safe till we get under weigh again. As for that young lubber, Warner, he'll give no more trouble; he's safe enough in Davy Jones's locker! That shot settled his account!" After a moment's pause, he continued: "Oh! I know what I'll do; I must go ashore and see old Redskin; perhaps he can give us stowage for these chicken-hearts for a day or two. He must, indeed, for all must look right here in the morning the owners are sure to be on board early, and they must find all square here. It's my opinion, Marley, that this war's nearly up, and there's an end of our commission. Its been part privateer and part free commission; and, by heaven! I hate the thought of giving up the brig antine and the free commission; as for the other, I don't care two pins for it. What do you think, Marley ?"

"I think with you, Captain, to half-a-point," answered that worthy. "I like the free commission: it's get what you can, and keep what you get. Never mind the owners."

"And the hands, Marley ?"

Right as a clueline, Captain; not a soul but would sooner fly a free flag than any other, I'll be sworn; and the sooner it's hoisted the better, say I, for one! But, Captain, what the mischief are we to do with

these b skulks below?"

“I'll manage that, if we can but get them ashore to-night under old Redskin's care; he'll keep them safe enough. I'll be sworn. I've an old account running with the old sinner, and I'll cancel it before I sail, I'll take my oath on that! He thinks I've forgot; but I'll remind him of It's devilish dark, and

it yet. I'll go now, and be back in an hour. will help us to get these fellows ashore." So saying, the Captain jumped into the boat, and once more shoved off.

The swift, stealthy dip of the oars was heard for some minutes, and gradually died away in the distance. The boat shot swiftly through the still waters of the bay; and in a few minutes touched the steps of the landing-place. The Captain sprang from the boat, and, ordering the men to await his return, strode rapidly up the pier like one familiar with the place. It was nearly ten o'clock, and the part of the town which he traversed was dark and deserted. He passed quickly on till he came to a street that intersected, at right angles, that which he was traversing. He turned into the street to the left, and passed on with the same confident familiar step as before. It was the lowest quarter of the town. Rays of light streamed here and there, through broken shutters, from miserable hovels; and sounds of drunken glee burst forth from what were clearly the lowest haunts of vice. The night was a mild one, and here and there, at the door of some miserable dram-shop, were collected groups of drunken sailors and wretched-looking women-some laughing, others singing, others unable to do more than sleep-a heavy, drunken sleepon the pavements or in the gutters.

Through such scenes as these did without giving even a passing At last he slackened his pace,

the privateer's Captain pass quickly on, glance to the horrible scenes around him. and stopped before the door of a drinking shop, over whose door was suspended a sign representing an anchor; and, had the light allowed the

passer-by to read it, he would have discovered the name of "The Best Bower."

"This must be the place," said the Captain. himself."

"Ah! there's Mike

It was a low-roofed, filthy place; the few flaring and unsteady lights of which could scarcely be seen through the cloud of smoke coming from the pipes of a score of smokers, seated, some on a broken form, others on the remains of a settee against the wall, and some unable to find a seat except upon the counter of the bar. Behind the bar, at one end of this uninviting-looking apartment, were two shelves, upon which were ranged in tempting array rows of black junk bottles, with a brass label suspended round the neck of each, indicating its contents. A dirty tumbler, with an old smoke-dried, shrivelled-up lemon upon it, between each row of bottles, completed the array. Inside the bar, seated upon the remains of what had once been an arm-chair, was an individual of the most corpulent dimensions and repulsive appearance. He leant both of his huge dirty arms upon the bar, which was always covered with small lakes of different sorts of beverages; his huge hands supported his head; and in his mouth was a large pipe perfectly black with age and use. His face was fearfully bloated and of a deep crimson colour, which it owed to a long-continued and free use of rum. His hair was short, and of a fiery red; his eyes small and hazel-coloured, and were now fixed, as if in deep calculation, upon a small stream of rum and water that crept slowly over the table before him. So deep was his reverie, that he never noticed the entrance of the privateer Captain, who walked up to him and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Mike! what the devil are you dreaming about now?" exclaimed he, laughing loudly at the astonished and by no means pleased expression of the public-house keeper's face. "How are you, old boy? Give us your flipper, Mike. What you don't know me? Has a single cruise so changed me, that Mike Standish don't know me? Come, let's drink, old boy! Perhaps whiskey may quicken your perceptions!" said the Captain, laughing again.

A sudden expression of an uncertain character, but still of intelligence, flitted over the host's fat face at the mention of whiskey; but whether connected with that drink, or his recognition of an old acquaintance, it was impossible to say. Taking the pipe from his mouth, and with a chuckling laugh that sent a cloud of smoke into the face of a man in front of him, he exclaimed, in a quiet, subdued voice, strangely at variance with his appearance—

"Captain Holmes, as I'm alive!" and stretched out his huge

hand.

It was grasped and shaken in so powerful a gripe, that the tears stood in Mike's eyes, and, with a cry of pain, he drew his hand away, squeezed apparently to one-half its size. Rubbing his injured member,

and half crying, he exclaimed-

"What a devil of a squeeze, Captain! I'd as soon shake hands with him as with you, any day."

"We'll see about that," muttered the Captain, turning half round, with a grim smile on his face, and ejecting the quid from his mouth. "But I vow, Captain, who'd ha' thought to see you here? I never heard that the "Sea Snake" was in this part of the world. When did

ye arrive?

What luck have you had ?"

And, as he asked these questions, he placed a case bottle of whiskey or hollands on the counter. "Got in to-night, Mike," said the other, as he filled the tumbler half full of the spirit. "No luck in life. Privateering's the worst trade going, I think. But come, let's drink first and talk afterwards, for I've got a private job to speak to you about."

Mike poured out a tumbler of brandy, and the pair drank to each other's health.

"Now, Mike, let's have a yarn with ye in the back room," said the Captain. "Is it empty ?"

"Oh, yes, all right; take the light, I'll be with you in half a

second."

The Captain took the light, and passed through a small door behind the bar into a little room, containing two or three ricketty chairs, and a worm-eaten old table.

"Be quick, Mike, for I'm in a devil of a hurry," he whispered, as he passed.

"In a half moment, Captain. Here, Joe; come here and take my place, while I talk to the Captain in the back room."

Joe answered the summons at once, and seated himself with vast gravity on the landlord's chair. As he did so, he cast a look towards the others of pride, as if vain of his exalted destiny, and of the confidence reposed in him by the landlord; who, after cautioning him not to taste a drop, nor to credit a glass to anyone, passed into the back room, carefully closing the door behind him.

"Can we be overheard, Mike ?”

"Not a syllable, Captain !"

"Well then, Mike, not to tack too much, I'm in a devil of a fix, and I look to you to give me a haul through."

"A bad fix, eh? Well, what is it? I'll help an old friend if I can. Scarce times for money now, though; scarce times. Business arn't lively, by no means."

"It's nothing of that sort, Mike," said the Captain, who saw what his companion was driving at. "It isn't money that I want of you at all."

Mike breathed more freely, and rubbing his huge hands, said—“No, Captain! No! I didn't guess it was. Had it been, you knows old Mike wouldn't be the man to refuse a friend."

"I'm well aware of that," returned the Captain, in a tone of mock earnestness.

"But, Captain, what is the trouble about? What fix are you in? Let's hear it, and if I can give you a hand, depend on't I'm your man." "Well, Mike, I'll tell you; but first, it's a secret between us, you understand. Don't breathe it to a mortal."

"Silent as the grave, I swear!" said the other at once. "That's silent enough, it's one blessing!

But tell me Mike, could

you hide a dozen men or so for me, for a day or two, while I'm in port ? So they shouldn't be seen or heard, I mean!"

"Hide a dozen men! What's in the wind now ?" exclaimed Mike,

in a tone of surprise, as he stared at the Captain.

"Can you do it, Mike? Can you hide a dozen men ? as I said before. You have the cellars now?"

VOL. I.-No. 1.

D

Yes!"

"Then you can manage it for me, Mike; and must now." This was said in a resolute tone, like a man accustomed to find his will given way to. 'Come, Mike, I'll tell you all about it :----I had some row with a chap to-night just after we came to an anchor. He wouldn't obey my orders, as Captain, and flatly refused to obey me. We had some words, and he struck me to the deck the blow stunned me, and cut a slight gash in my forehead. I jumped up in a moment, and levelled my pistol to shoot the mutinous vagabond, but it missed fire, and he jumped overboard to get away. I saw him when he came up to breathe, and shot him in the water. There were about a score that swore I struck him first, and I should hang for his murder. I know I would be acquitted by a jury, but I couldn't wait for that, you know; and so I took the best way I could to keep clear of the Courts, that take away a year or so to manage anything. I had them bound, and put down in the hold of the brigantine. But, you see, the owners will be aboard to-morrow morning, so that they must be got out of that to-night. And, Mike, your cellar is just the place; you must stow them away; that's what brought me here to-night. Now you know what I want of you. What do you say? Will you hide these fellows away till I sail ?"

"A dozen men! How long will you be in port, Captain ?" "Perhaps a week."

"It's a mighty risky thing, Captain, to have a dozen men in my cellar for a week, as prisoners. If it should get out anyhow, I should be jugged for life, I vow. It's a deuced risky job. I won't meddle with it, Captain, that's plain."

there's no getting out

"You won't, eh? But you must, Redskin; on't. You love money you shall be well paid. How's that?" "How much?" asked Mike, quickly.

“I'll give you a hundred dollars to keep them here a week, or if I don't lay here a day they come—what do you say?"

"One hundred dollars-twelve of 'em-keep 'em a week. It's not enough, Captain Holmes: it's a great risk to run. My reputation would be in danger-it's not enough. I'll have nothing to do with it, at all events."

"I'll give you two hundred dollars, Mike!" said the Captain, who had been watching him, and saw that he had only to bid high enough and he would secure him.

"No" said Mike.

"I'll give you three.”

"No, Captain Holmes! I tell you I'll have nothing to do with it at no price. Don't tempt me any more."

"I'll give you five hundred dollars, Mike Standish!"

"Five hundred dollars!-five hundred !-Twelve of them in my cellar for a week-perhaps only for one day! Let me see ! Yes; I'il do it, Captain, being as it's you in this bad scrape. It's only on account of old friendship that I'd put a hand to it-nothing else!"

"Nothing else, I'm well aware, Mike; and I hope I shall be able to repay you the obligation you put me under. I'll remember it, depend on't." As the Captain uttered these words, an expression of doubtful meaning might have been observed flitting across his features.

"Only on account of old friendship, I assure you, Captain; nothing