aused the rafters of the widow's cottage to ring
again.

These melodious, not to say thunderous, sounds also caused the ears of a
small native youth to tingle with curiosity. This urchin crept on his
brown little knees under the window of Bumpus's apartment, got on his
brown and dirty little tip-toes, placed his brown little hands on the
sill, hauled his brown and half-naked little body up by sheer force of
muscle, and peeped into the room with his large and staring brown eyes,
the whites of which were displayed to their full extent.

Jo was in the middle of an enthusiastic "Oh!" when the urchin's head
appeared. Instead of expressing his passionate desire for a "draught of
the howling blast," he prolonged the "Oh!" into a hideous yell, and
thrust his blazing face close to the window so suddenly that the boy let
go his hold, fell backwards, and rolled head over heels into a ditch,
out of which he scrambled with violent haste, and ran with the utmost
possible precipitancy to his native home on the sea-shore.

Here he related what he had seen to his father. The father went and
looked in upon Jo's solitude. He happened to have seen Bumpus during the
great fight, and knew him to be one of the pirates. The village rose _en
masse_. Some of the worst characters in it stirred up the rest, went to
the widow's cottage, and demanded that the person of the pirate should
be delivered up.

The widow objected. The settlers insisted. The widow protested. The
settlers threatened force. Upon this the widow reasoned with them;
besought them to remember that the missionary would be back in a day or
two, and that it would be well to have his advice before they did
anything, and finally agreed to give up her charge on receiving a
promise that he should have a fair trial.

Bumpus was accordingly bound with ropes, led in triumph through the
village, and placed in a strong wooden building which was used as the
jail of the place.

The trial that followed was a mere mockery. The leading spirits of it
were those who had been styled by Mr. Mason, "enemies within the camp."
They elected themselves to the offices of prosecutor and judge, as well
as taking the trouble to act the part of jurymen and witnesses. Poor
John Bumpus's doom was sealed before the trial began. They had prejudged
the case, and only went through the form to ease their own consciences
and to fulfil their promise to the widow.

It was in vain that Bumpus asserted, with a bol