ysteries. I shuddered at the thought. It was not the
beautiful blue sky unrolled above me, nor the broad, playful sea
around that wooed me to life. No, it was that fear of the "something
after death."

"Are you ready to answer?"

"I am thine."

"It is well, throw these carcasses into the sea, and set all sail for
the Bermudas. Well, lieutenant," continued he, as the ship fell off
before the wind, "give us your name, or it will be awkward work
hailing you."

"William--" I stopped, the pride of my race arose within me.

"Well?"

"I will not give my name--call me William, I'll answer to that."

"Very well--lieutenant William, my lads, your second lieutenant."

The men seemed to like me from the first, and as I gazed upon them
with a proud, fearless eye, a hearty cheer arose that endorsed my
command.

Since then my home has been the pirate's deck; my heart has grown
harder and harder with the lapse of time. I love the sight of blood
better than I love the flowing wine--the agonizing shriek of death
better than the sweetest music--like an emissary of evil I gloat over
the tortures of man. I have learned to hate the land of my birth, and
all who first drew breath upon her detested soil. I have been foremost
in every conflict, yet have I not met death--the only foe whom I
cannot conquer by my fierce will and dark heart.

I could not long remain a subordinate in command. I had become the
idol of our lawless crew, and a single blow from my sword laid our
captain low in death upon his own deck; and I filled his place,
smiling with a fiendish pleasure, as I saw his body thrown into the
waves, and the hungry sharks severing the limbs yet throbbing with
life. I have no feeling for my kind--yet I was not meant for this.
Under happier auspices, I might have been a leader in the ranks of God
as I am now in those of Satan; my sword might have been drawn for my
native land with the purest and loftiest feelings of patriotism,
instead of being turned against her and her children. Even now, in the
midst of my crimes and desolation, my heart throbs when I think of the
great and good of earth, and I feel that, like them, I might have left
a name of boast and pride to mankind; now, I shall perish, unknown and
unwept; the annals of my house shall never record that one of its
scions led a pirate crew to deeds of bloody cruelty and death. Long
since I have buried my name in oblivion--I am dead to my kindred, dead
to the world; the c