own sakes: Nor hesitate; for, without me,
well do ye know that vessel of the King would be your master. The ship is
already mine, of all the rest, I claim these prisoners alone for my
portion. Farewell!"

Silent amazement succeeded this unlooked-for address. There was, indeed,
for a moment, some disposition to rebel; but the measures of the Rover had
been too well taken for resistance. The "Dart" lay on their beam, with her
people at their guns, matches lighted, and a heavy battery. Unprepared,
without a leader, and surprised, opposition would have been madness. The
first astonishment had scarce abated, before each freebooter rushed to
secure his individual effects, and to transfer them to the deck of the
coaster. When all but the crew of a single boat had left the "Dolphin,"
the promised gold was sent, and then the loaded craft was seen hastily
seeking the shelter of some secret creek. During this scene, the Rover had
again been silent as death. He next turned to Wilder; and, making a mighty
but successful effort to still his feelings, he added,--

"Now must we, too, part. I commend my wounded to your care. They are
necessarily with your surgeons. I know the trust I give you will not be
abused."

"My word is the pledge of their safety," returned the young de Lacey.

"I believe you.--Lady," he added, approaching the elder of the females,
with an air in which earnestness and hesitation strongly contended, "if a
proscribed and guilty man may still address you, grant yet a favour."

"Name it; a mother's ear can never be deaf to him who has spared her
child."

"When you petition Heaven for that child, then forget not there is another
being who may still profit by your prayers!--No more.--And now," he
continued looking about him like one who was determined to be equal to the
pang of the moment, however difficult it might prove, and surveying, with
an eye of painful regret, those naked decks which were so lately teeming
with scenes of life and revelry; "and now--ay--now we part! The boat
awaits you."

Wilder had soon seen his mother and Gertrude into the pinnace; but he
still lingered on the deck himself.

"And you!" he said, "what will become of you?"

"I shall shortly be--forgotten.--Adieu!"

The manner in which the Rover spoke forbade delay. The young man
hesitated, squeezed his hand, and left him.

When Wilder found himself restored to his proper vessel, of which the
death of Bignall had left him in command,