as Miss Marjorie Malyoe, very white, but strangely composed,
showing no terror, either in her countenance or in her expression.

* * * * *

It would not be possible for the writer to give any clear idea of the
circumstances of the days that immediately followed, and which, within
a week, brought Barnaby True and the enchanting object of his
affections at once to the ending of their voyage, and of all these
marvellous adventures. For when, in after times, our hero would
endeavor to revive a memory of the several occurrences that then
transpired, they all appeared as though in a dream or a bewitching
phantasm.

All that he could recall were long days of delicious enjoyment followed
by nights of dreaming. But how enchanting those days! How exquisite the
distraction of those nights!

Upon occasions he and his charmer might sit together under the shade of
the sail for an hour at a stretch, he holding her hand in his and
neither saying a single word, though at times the transports of poor
Barnaby's emotions would go far to suffocate him with their rapture. As
for her face at such moments, it appeared sometimes to assume a
transparency as though of a light shining from behind her countenance.

The vessel in which they found themselves was a brigantine of good size
and build, but manned by a considerable crew, the most strange and
outlandish in their appearance that Barnaby had ever beheld. For some
were white, some were yellow, and some were black, and all were tricked
out with gay colors, and gold ear-rings in their ears, and some with
long mustachios, and others with handkerchiefs tied around their heads.
And all these spoke together a jargon of which Barnaby True could not
understand a single word, but which might have been Portuguese from one
or two phrases he afterwards remembered. Nor did this outlandish crew,
of God knows what sort of men, address any of their conversation either
to Barnaby or to the young lady. They might now and then have looked at
him and her out of the corners of their yellow eyes, but that was all;
otherwise they were, indeed, like the creatures of a dream. Only he who
was commander of this strange craft, when he would come down into the
saloon to mix a glass of grog or to light a pipe of tobacco, would
maybe favor Barnaby with a few words concerning the weather or
something of the sort, and then to go on deck again about his business.

Indeed, it may be affirmed with pretty e