om this, at some such place as
you speak of without any detriment to yourself," said Owen; and,
bethinking him that he would appeal to the pirate's better feelings, he
added, "You have deprived me of my vessel and ruined my prospects of
advancement. I was engaged to marry a young lady who is sincerely
attached to me, and for her sake I plead for my liberty, that I may be
able to return to her, or at all events inform her that I am still
alive."
"Who is she?" asked O'Harrall, "although I need scarcely put the
question."
"Captain Tracy's daughter--you have often seen her," answered Owen.
"I thought so," exclaimed O'Harrall. "You have counted too much on my
generosity. I have not only seen her, as you say, but admire her more
than any woman I have met, and should I ever wed I intend to make her my
wife. Is it likely, then, that I should allow you to return home and
forestall me?"
Owen's heart sank: he could not reply.
"You have but ill pleaded your cause," continued O'Harrall in the cold
sarcastic tone in which he often spoke. "You saved my life, and I have
preserved yours; more you cannot expect from me. Those men there
behaved well to me on board the _Ouzel Galley_, and I therefore could
not allow them to be killed. My sense of justice does not go further
than that. You and they must make up your minds to remain where you are
for an indefinite period. I came to see how you had acted, and if you
behave as wisely as you have hitherto done you need not fear being
subjected to any further restraint. I will, by-the-by, send you some
books for your amusement. You will see by this that I do not wish to
treat you with greater severity than is necessary. Now, good evening."
O'Harrall rose as he spoke, and without further remark descended the
ladder, drawing the trap after him.
A parcel of books was delivered through Mammy the next day; they
consisted chiefly of voyages and travels, and proved a great boon to the
prisoners. O'Harrall, however, did not again appear until some weeks
after this. He was, when he then came, evidently in a bad humour, his
manner being even threatening towards his prisoners. He spoke as if he
regretted having spared their lives, exhibiting by the expressions he
used his abandoned disposition. Owen knew that his only safe course was
not to answer him. He felt that it would be hopeless to attempt to
arouse any better or more generous feelings. He, however, was more than
ev
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