but before letting you know them, I wish to hear what you would
advise."

"I would advise, in the first place, that you should provide one or two
thorough sailors to manage the craft. By the way, that reminds me of
Bumpus. What of him? Where is he? In the midst of all this bustle I have
not had time for much thought; and it has only just occurred to me that
if this schooner is really a pirate, and if Gascoyne turns out to be
Durward, it follows that Bumpus is a pirate too, and ought to be dealt
with accordingly."

"I have thought of that," said Mr. Mason, with a perplexed look, "and
intended to speak to you on the subject; but events have crowded so fast
upon each other of late that it has been driven out of my mind. No
doubt, if the Foam and the Avenger are one and the same vessel, as seems
too evident to leave much room for doubt, then Bumpus is a pirate; for
he does not deny that he was one of the crew. But he acts strangely for
a pirate. He seems as much at his ease amongst us as if he were the most
innocent of men. Moreover, his looks seem to stamp him a thoroughly
honest fellow. But, alas! one cannot depend on looks."

"But where is the man?" asked Henry.

"He is asleep in the small closet off the kitchen," said Mrs. Stuart,
"where he has been lying ever since you returned from the heathen
village. Poor fellow, he sleeps heavily, and looks as if he had been
hurt during all this fighting."

"Hurt! say you?" exclaimed Henry, laughing; "it is a miracle that he is
now alive after the flight he took over the north cliff into the sea."

"Flight!--over the north cliff!" echoed Mrs. Stuart, in surprise.

"Aye, and a fearful plunge he had." Here Henry detailed poor Jo's
misadventure. "And now," said he, when he had finished, "I must lock his
door and keep him in. The settlers have forgotten him in all this
turmoil; but, depend upon it, if they see him they will string him up
for a pirate to the first handy branch of a tree, without giving him the
benefit of a trial; and that would not be desirable."

"Yet you would have shot Gascoyne on mere suspicion, without a thought
of trial or justice," said Mrs. Stuart.

"True, mother; but that was when I was seizing him, and in hot blood,"
said Henry, in a subdued voice. "I was hasty there, no doubt. Lucky for
us both that the pistol missed fire."

The widow looked as if she were about to reply, but checked herself.

"Yes," said Mr. Mason, recurring to the former subject