lord,' and the steward went down below, and was obliged to take
a couple of glasses of brandy to keep himself from fainting.

'Who are they, and what are they, Mr. Maddox?' cried the lady's-maid,
who had been weeping.

'Pirates!--_bloody, murderous stick-at-nothing_ pirates!' replied the
steward.

'Oh!' screamed the lady's-maid, 'what will become of us, poor
unprotected females?' And she hastened into the cabin, to impart this
dreadful intelligence.

The ladies in the cabin were not in a very enviable situation. As for
the elder Miss Ossulton (but, perhaps, it will be better in future to
distinguish the two ladies, by calling the elder simply Miss Ossulton,
and her niece, Cecilia), she was sitting with her salts to her nose,
agonised with a mixture of trepidation and wounded pride. Mrs. Lascelles
was weeping, but weeping gently. Cecilia was sad, and her heart was
beating with anxiety and suspense, when the maid rushed in.

'Oh, madam! oh, miss! oh, Mrs. Lascelles! I have found it all out!--they
are murderous, bloody, do-everything pirates!!!'

'Mercy on us!' exclaimed Miss Ossulton; 'surely they will never
dare----'

'Oh, ma'am, they dare anything!--they just now were for throwing the
steward overboard; and they have rummaged all the portmanteaus, and
dressed themselves in the gentlemen's best clothes. The captain of them
told the steward that he was Lord B., and that if he dared to call him
anything else, he would cut his throat from ear to ear; and if the cook
don't give them a good dinner, they swear that they'll chop his right
hand off, and make him eat it without pepper or salt!'

Miss Ossulton screamed, and went off into hysterics. Mrs. Lascelles and
Cecilia went to her assistance; but the latter had not forgotten the
very different behaviour of Jack Pickersgill, and his polite manners,
when he boarded the vessel. She did not, therefore, believe what the
maid had reported, but still her anxiety and suspense were great,
especially about her father. After having restored her aunt she put on
her bonnet, which was lying on the sofa.

'Where are you going, dear?' said Mrs. Lascelles.

[Illustration: '_Pirates!_--bloody, murderous stick-at-nothing
_pirates!' replied the steward._]

'On deck,' replied Cecilia. 'I must and will speak to these men.'

'Gracious heaven, Miss Ossulton! going on deck! have you heard what
Phoebe says?'

'Yes, aunt, I have; but I can wait here no longer.'

'Stop her! stop her!-