ptive!"

The brown cheek of Ludlow reddened, and he turned toward the lighter and
far less vigorous frame of his companion, as if about to strike him to the
earth, when a door opened, and Alida appeared in the saloon.

The meeting, between the commander of the Coquette and his mistress, was
not without embarrassment. The anger of the former and the confusion of
the latter, for a moment, kept both silent; but as la belle Barberie had
not returned without an object, she was quick to speak.

"I know not whether to approve, or to condemn, the boldness that has
prompted Captain Ludlow to enter my pavilion, at this unseasonable hour,
and in so unceremonious a manner," she said, "for I am still ignorant of
his motive. When he shall please to let me hear it, I may judge better of
the merit of the excuse."

"True, we will hear his explanation before condemnation," added the
stranger, offering a seat to Alida, which she coldly declined. "Beyond a
doubt the gentleman has a motive."

If looks could have destroyed, the speaker would have been annihilated.
But as the lady seemed indifferent to the last remark, Ludlow prepared to
enter on his vindication.

"I shall not attempt to conceal that an artifice has been practised," he
said, "which is accompanied by consequences that I find awkward. The air
and manner of the seaman, whose bold conduct you witnessed in the boat,
induced me to confide in him more than was prudent, and I have been
rewarded by deception."

"In other words, Captain Ludlow is not as sagacious as he had reason to
believe," said an ironical voice, at his elbow.

"In what manner am I to blame, or why is my privacy to be interrupted,
because a wandering seaman has deceived the commander of the Coquette?"
rejoined Alida. "Not only that audacious mariner, but this--this person,"
she added, adopting a word that use has appropriated to the multitude, "is
a stranger to me. There is no other connexion between us, than that you
see."

"It is not necessary to say why I landed," continued Ludlow; "but I was
weak enough to allow that unknown mariner to quit my ship, in my company;
and when I would return, he found means to disarm my men, and make me a
prisoner."

"And yet, art thou, for a captive, tolerably free!" added the ironical
voice.

"Of what service is this freedom, without the means of using it? The sea
separates me from my ship, and my faithful boat's-crew are in fetters. I
have been little watched, mysel