he sword-handle--that racked the poor, withering,
and shrinking brain, within its multiplied cabinets, by a thousand
terrors--such was not the work of Time. How different was his, from the
hoary, but holy age, that ushers an aged, and it may be a worn, but
godly and grateful spirit, to an eternity of happiness!--when the
records of a good man's life may be traced by the gentle furrows that
nature, and not crime, has ploughed upon the brow--the voice, sweet,
though feeble, giving a benison to all the living things of this fair
earth--the eye, gentle and subdued, sleeping calmly within its
socket--the heart, trusting in the present, and hoping in the future;
judging by itself of others, and so judging kindly (despite experience)
of all mankind, until time may have chimed out his warning notes!

A thousand and a thousand times had Sir Robert cursed the evil destiny
that prompted him to confess his crime to his daughter; and his curses
were more bitter, and more deep, when he found that Sir Willmott Burrell
had played so treacherous a part, and inveigled him under total
subjection.

"And is it Sir Willmott Burrell who is to procure me a free pardon and
an acknowledged ship? Trust my case to Sir Willmott Burrell!" growled
Dalton, as he sat opposite the enfeebled baronet: his hands clenched,
his brows knit, and his heart swelling in his bosom with contending
feelings. "Trust my case to Sir Willmott Burrell!" he repeated. "And so,
Sir Robert Cecil, you have sold your soul to the devil for a mess of
pottage, a mess of poisoned pottage! You have not, you say, the poor
power of obtaining the most trifling favour for yourself. But I say
again, Look to it; for, by the God in heaven, I will have my suit or my
revenge."

"Revenge has come!" groaned forth the unfortunate man. "Is it not enough
that my child, that high-souled, noble creature, knows of my guilt! All
this day, and yesterday too, she would not see me. I know how it is--I
am as a leper in her eyes."

"Your daughter!--your daughter know your crime!" said the Buccaneer:
"How, how was that?--Who told, who could have told her such a
thing?--who had the heart?--But stay!" he continued, with his rude but
natural energy, the better feelings of his nature coming out at once,
when he understood what the baronet must have endured under such
circumstances:--"stay, you need not tell me; there is but one man upon
earth who could so act, and that man is Sir Willmott Burrell.--The
v