rom your deserts!"

He waved his hand for St. Ledger to follow him, and left the cabin.
Frederick likewise retired, leaving the Lieutenant highly incensed at
the reproof he had received, and the favourable reception given to the
indigent St. Ledger.

Descended from an ancient and wealthy family--an only child--Harland had
early been taught to regard merit only in proportion to the birth of the
individual; and whilst the actions of his ancestors were recited to
raise an emulation in his bosom, they implanted a pride, the partial
fondness of his parents but too much tended to increase. Thus regarding
himself as superior to the generality of mankind, he expected an
observance and obedience few were willing to pay. The Captain's
profession of friendship to St. Ledger, after he had so openly avowed
his disapprobation of that youth, he looked on as an insult offered to
himself, and as such determined to show his resentment by treating him
with every mark of contempt in his power. This behaviour, however,
failed in the desired effect; and, instead of degrading St. Ledger, was
the means of gaining him the notice and protection of the other
officers. By the austerity of his manners, Harland had long since
rendered himself the object of their dislike; the injustice of his
behaviour was therefore exaggerated in their opinion, and, independently
of the Captain's avowed partiality, or the interesting manners of the
young adventurer, inclined them to regard him with sentiments of
commiseration and friendship.

Already had St. Ledger been six weeks on board, during which time the
Captain had repeatedly, but vainly, urged him to declare who he was;
neither could he be induced to appear when any strangers visited that
gentleman; when one day, being importuned by Frederick to accompany them
to the house of a friend, he hesitatingly acknowledged it was not safe
for him to be seen.

"Not safe, St. Ledger?" repeated the Captain. "Of what action can you
have been guilty, that like a midnight assassin, you should thus dread
the observation of civilized society?"

"None, Captain," answered St. Ledger firmly. "But the criminal is not
the only one who has cause for fear. He who meets the hand of the
assassin is in equal danger as he who gives the blow."

"Well, St. Ledger," returned the Captain, "I yield to your reasons,
whatever they may be. I entertain too good an opinion of you to think
you guilty of any crime which could render you un