grinios, and the devil's own O's, that are 'fore and
aft in all things with Jeromio. There's no putting faith in any of them,
seeing they have a natural antipathy towards us English. So, now, let us
put back, sir."

"Put back!" repeated Dalton, casting a look of scorn upon poor
Springall; "the man's not born who could make me put back!--The ship's
my own--and the sea, the broad sea we look upon, is mine, as long as I
have strength to dip an oar in its brine, or wit to box a compass!
Avast! avast! boy; you know not what you speak of when you talk to Hugh
Dalton of putting back!"

"They'll murder us both!" said Springall, in a mournful, and almost a
reproachful tone.

"My poor boy!" replied Dalton looking in his face, and poising on high
the oar he had so vigorously dipped in the blue wave--"My true-hearted
boy! it would be, indeed, a bad recompense for your devotedness, to lead
you into the tiger's den;--for myself, I have no fear;--I will put you
on shore, and return."

"Never, master!" exclaimed the lad. "There is no one in the wide world I
care for but yourself. To serve you, I would venture all. No, no,
master, I may be but a poor weak boy in some things, but in this I am a
man. I will never leave you while I have power to serve you."

"And you will not repent it," observed the Buccaneer; the spirit of
former days rallying round his heart at the idea of danger, which ever
appeared to him the path to glory: "you will not repent it--in a right
cause too. What can I have to fear? I know that the instant I show
myself among them, they will return as one man to their duty; and IF
THEY DO NOT----"

As they neared the vessel, they perceived that not more than five or six
of their comrades were, like shadowy things, pacing the deck. Jeromio
himself, however, they noted, waiting to receive them.

Dalton, who was vigilant as brave, had previously thrown his boat-cloak
over Springall, so that he might not be recognised, and handed him a
cutlass and pistol. Whether the appearance of two, when he only expected
one, or whether the natural dread with which he always, despite himself,
regarded his captain, overpowered Jeromio, we may not guess; but as the
Buccaneer strode up the ladder, his penetrating look steadily fixed upon
the wily Italian, his quick eye perceived that twice he attempted to
level a pistol; while his more cowardly accomplices crowded behind him.
Had the villain possessed courage enough to fire as Dalton w