father, that was just like Mr. Cary there, only he had a black beard,
and black curls, and swore terribly in his speech, like a Spaniard, my
dear young lady?"

And the honest fellow, falling on his knees, covered Ayacanora's hands
with kisses; while all the crew, fancying him gone suddenly mad, crowded
aft.

"Steady, men, and don't vex him!" said Amyas. "He thinks that he has
found his little maid at last."

"And so do I, Amyas, as I live," said Cary.

"Steady, steady, my masters all! If this turn out a wrong scent after
all, his wits will crack. Mr. Yeo, can't you think of any other token?"

Yeo stamped impatiently. "What need then? it's her, I tell ye, and
that's enough! What a beauty she's grown! Oh dear! where were my eyes
all this time, to behold her, and not to see her! 'Tis her very mortal
self, it is! And don't you mind me, my dear, now? Don't you mind
Salvation Yeo, that taught you to sing 'Heave my mariners all, O!'
a-sitting on a log by the boat upon the sand, and there was a sight of
red lilies grew on it in the moss, dear, now, wasn't there? and we made
posies of them to put in your hair, now?"--And the poor old man ran on
in a supplicating, suggestive tone, as if he could persuade the girl
into becoming the person whom he sought.

Ayacanora had watched him, first angry, then amused, then attentive, and
at last with the most intense earnestness. Suddenly she grew crimson,
and snatching her hands from the old man's, hid her face in them, and
stood.

"Do you remember anything of all this, my child?" asked Amyas, gently.

She lifted up her eyes suddenly to his, with a look of imploring agony,
as if beseeching him to spare her. The death of a whole old life,
the birth of a whole new life, was struggling in that beautiful face,
choking in that magnificent throat, as she threw back her small head,
and drew in her breath, and dashed her locks back from her temples, as
if seeking for fresh air. She shuddered, reeled, then fell weeping on
the bosom, not of Salvation Yeo, but of Amyas Leigh.

He stood still a minute or two, bearing that fair burden, ere he could
recollect himself. Then,--

"Ayacanora, you are not yet mistress of yourself, my child. You were
better to go down, and see after poor Lucy, and we will talk about it
all to-morrow."

She gathered herself up instantly, and with eyes fixed on the deck slid
through the group, and disappeared below.

"Ah!" said Yeo, with a tone of exquisite sadne