ten secretly to a conversation, whatever
it might be, that was not intended for his ears. He resolved merely to
peep in at one of the many chinks in the log but for one moment, to
satisfy himself that Gascoyne really was there, and to observe his
position. But as the latter now thought himself beyond the hearing of
any one, he spoke in unguarded tones, and Henry heard a few words in
spite of himself.

Looking through a chink in the wall at the end of the hut, he beheld the
stalwart form of the sandal-wood trader standing on the hearth of the
hut, which was almost unfurnished,--a stool, a bench, an old chest, a
table, and a chair being all that it contained. His mother was seated
at the table, with her hands clasped before her, looking up at her
companion.

"Oh! why run so great a risk as this?" said she earnestly.

"I was born to run risks, I believe," replied Gascoyne, in a sad, low
voice. "It matters not. My being on the island is the result of Manton's
villainy; my being here is for poor Henry's sake and your own, as well
as for the sake of Alice the missionary's child. You have been upright,
Mary, and kind, and true as steel ever since I knew you. But for that I
should have been lost long ago--"

Henry heard no more. These words did indeed whet his curiosity to the
utmost; but the shame of acting the part of an "eavesdropper" was so
great that, by a strong effort of will, he drew back, and pondered for a
moment what he ought to do. The unexpected tone and tenor of Gascoyne's
remark had softened him slightly; but, recalling the undoubted proofs
that he had had of his really being a pirate, he soon steeled his heart
against him. He argued that the mere fact of a man giving his mother
credit for a character which everybody knew she possessed, was not
sufficient to clear him of the suspicions which he had raised against
himself. Besides, it was impertinence in any man to tell his mother his
opinion of her to her face. And to call him "poor Henry," forsooth! This
was not to be endured!

Having thus wrought himself up to a sufficient degree of indignation,
the young man went straight to the door, making considerable noise in
order to prepare those within for his advent. He had expected to find it
locked. In this he was mistaken. It yielded to a push.

Throwing it wide open, Henry strode into the middle of the apartment,
and, pointing the pistol at Gascoyne's breast, exclaimed:

"Pirate Durward, I arrest you in the