he indignation of Dalton was quickly
roused by the outrage described by Robin Hays: he was, moreover, much
exasperated that such a deception should have been successfully
practised on himself. Nothing is so sure to anger those who duly value
their penetration, as the knowledge that they have been duped by those
they consider inferior to themselves: indeed, the best of us are more
ready to pardon bare-faced wickedness than designing cunning;--we may
reconcile ourselves to the being overpowered by the one, but scarcely
ever to the being over-reached by the other.

Springall had quitted Cecil Place the morning after his encounter with
Major Wellmore, of whom he persisted in speaking as "the strong
spectre-man;" and neither Robin's entreaties nor Dalton's commands could
prevail on or force him again to take up his abode within the house.

"I know not why I should remain," he said; "the girls flout and laugh at
my 'sea-saw ways,' as they call them; and though Barbara is a trim
craft, well-built and rigged too, yet her quiet smile is worse to me
than the grinning of the others. I'll stay nowhere to be both frightened
and scouted: the Captain engaged me to weather the sea, not the land,
and I'd rather bear the cat a-board the Fire-fly, or even a lecture in
the good ship Providence, than be land-lagged any longer."

He was present in the room at the Gull's Nest when Robin recounted to
the Buccaneer the peril in which Barbara had been placed; and the young
sailor speedily forgot the meek jesting of the maiden in the magnitude
of her danger.

"The black-eyed boy has not been near the house all day," added
Springall, "and my own belief is, that he's no he, but a woman in
disguise. My faith on it, Jeromio's in the secret, as sure as my name is
Obey Springall! Jeromio understands all manner of lingoes, and would be
likely to consort with any foreigners for filthy lucre: he has ever
ventures of his own, and this is one."

"There may be wisdom in thy giddy pate," observed the Buccaneer
thoughtfully. "God help me! dangers and plots gather thickly around, and
my wits are not brightening with my years."

"Marry, it's no woman," observed Mother Hays; "I could not be
deceived--it's a dark-browed boy," lowering her voice, "very like what
Prince Charlie was, as I remember him, but with rather a Jewish look for
a Christian prince."

"Robin," said Dalton, taking the Ranger aside, "if this most loathsome
marriage cannot be stayed--if wh