therefore
instantly joined Capt. Newton, and they proceeded to the forecastle
together.

Threats and commands had not virtue enough to bring Harmon from his
hiding-place. Some more effectual expedient must be resorted to.
Accordingly, brimstone was introduced into the numerous crevices of
the forecastle, and the atmosphere rendered insufferable. Frantic with
suffocation, his eyes flashing with rage, he brandished savagely a
huge case-knife:--"You, Newton! and you Kelly! I swear that, if I am
obliged to leave this forecastle, I'll sheath this knife in your
breasts, you infernal tormentors!"

Like the chafed, wounded, maddened bull, which his pursuers have
surrounded, and which is drawing close about him his dying strength,
for one last furious charge, was Harmon, when Kelly, with most
provoking coolness, said, "Harmon, you shall leave that forecastle, or
die there."

It soon became evident that he was making preparations to leave: they
therefore planted themselves firmly near the gang way through which
alone he could possibly come out. Soon he bolted furiously through,
making, as he passed, a desperate plunge at Capt. Newton, with his
enormous case-knife. Had not Mr. Kelly, at this moment, by a dexterous
effort, struck Harmon's arm, one more immortal spirit would have been
disencumbered of this "coil of mortality." Instead of this, the
villain was disarmed, and his dangerous weapon danced about harmlessly
on the top of the waves. Harmon was now powerless; and they found no
difficulty in putting irons upon him. During the whole of this
contest, his associates did not dare to offer him the least
assistance: on the contrary, each stood silently apart, eyeing his
neighbor with fear and distrust.

When Mr. Kelly returned to the cabin, he found that his sister had
fainted away through terror. Volatile salts, and the assurance that
all her future fears would be entirely groundless, had the effect of
restoring her very speedily. * * *

On the morning of the 23d May, Charleston light-house was descried
from the mast-head. Not a remnant of apprehension lurked behind; every
pulse beat gladly; anticipated joys filled every bosom. It was not
long before the revenue cutter, from which floats the stripes and the
stars, was seen bounding over the billows towards the Gold Hunter. She
was soon along side, and, after an interchange of salutations between
the vessels, the commander of the revenue cutter boarded the ship.
After many