elted into airy
nothings at the sound of that sweet soft voice. Tears, the only tears of
pleasure that had for years moistened the cheek of the reckless
Buccaneer, burst from his eyes: he could not speak; he felt weak as a
new-born infant; his limbs trembled; he would have fallen to the ground,
had not the feeble girl supported him. In a moment she perceived and
understood the whole truth, and exclaimed,--

"You--you are my father!"

"And you do not shrink? Do not turn away from me," he said fondly. "How
like your mother you are, now that your eyes are filled with love, not
fear!"

"And my mother loved you?" she inquired.

"Ay, girl. Why do you ask?"

"Because," replied Barbara, laying her head on his bosom, as, if, like a
young bird, she had found a home and peace within the parent nest,
"because, if my mother loved you, you cannot be a bad man; and I am
satisfied."

The most beautiful feature in Barbara's character was, as we have said,
her trustfulness; she had no idea of guilt. She heard of crime as a
thing abroad in the world, but she could never identify it with persons:
her mind was a compound of feeling and affection; and with the beautiful
and earnest simplicity of truth, she perfectly believed that her father
could not be wicked.

"I will tell my lady how my mother loved you, and then she will know you
cannot be the wild man we took you for."

"Tell her nothing, sweet, about me. In a little time I shall be able to
take you to a proper home; only mark this, you must never go to the home
of Sir Willmott Burrell."

"Ah! he is very wicked, I have heard; and yet you see how wrong it is to
believe evil of any one; but I know that he is evil, if ever man was,"
was the maid's reply, reverting almost unconsciously to her father's
situation.

"Let us talk of nothing evil, Barbara, during the few moments I can
remain with you now. Remember, you are to tell your lady nothing about
me."

"I do not see how I can help it."

"Why?"

"Because she has ever told me to tell her all things, and I have obeyed.
Ah, sir--father, you know not how good she is to me, and how she cries,
dear lady! Ever since this marriage has been fixed upon, she has wept
unceasingly."

The Buccaneer felt at the moment as all parents must feel who desire to
preserve their children in innocence, and yet themselves lead vicious
lives. To the wicked, lies are as necessary as the air they breathe, as
common for use as household stuff. Ha