not discover
his mistake till he was on board. I detained him and his boat's crew.
It continued calm till the evening, when the breeze sprung up, and I
put the head of the brig right for the bay, as if I were going in to
anchor. The breeze being light, it was dark before I got in and
alongside this vessel. They were completely surprised, for they
imagined that their captain was dining with his old friend, and having
no idea that we were any thing but Spanish, had not the least
preparation for resistance. We had possession of her decks before they
could seize their arms, and I brought her out without any one knowing
that she had been captured. On my arrival, the admiral gave me the
command of her, which I have held for nine months; but she is very
defective, and I was ordered home, and should have sailed, had it not
been that that scoundrel, the captain of the Transcendant, gave me the
information which induced me to come round to the back of the island.
Little did I think what happiness awaited me. So much for myself. Do
not think me an egotist for speaking of myself, I am only clearing
away the less important information to arrive at that which most
interests you. The Amy arrived safe with her valuable cargo. The
captain reported that he had remained at the rendezvous until blown
off by a sort of hurricane, and that finding himself a long way off,
he considered, when the gale had ceased, that he was not justified in
remaining with so valuable a cargo, but was bound to make the best of
his way to Liverpool. He was right, and his conduct was approved of by
Mr. Trevannion, who looked for your arrival every hour. At last a week
passed away and you did not make your appearance, and great alarm was
entertained for your safety. The weeks grew into months, and it was
supposed that you had been upset in the same hurricane which had
driven the Amy so far off from her rendezvous. The poor girl, Whyna,
was, as you may suppose, kindly received by Mr. Trevannion and his
daughter, and soon gained their affection; but she pined for your
return, and when she was told that you were dead she never recovered
it. The climate certainly did not agree with her, and she contracted a
very bad cough during the winter, but I believe from my heart that it
was your loss which affected her the most severely. After she had been
about eighteen months in England, she fell into a consumption and
died."

"Poor Whyna!" said I, with a sigh.

"Alexander