rooping hopes; for Ludlow believed it might
not yet be too late to rescue the woman, he so sincerely loved, from the
precipice over which she was suspended. The seemingly irretrievable step,
already taken, was forgotten; and the generous young sailor was about to
rush back to la Cour des Fees, to implore its mistress to be just to
herself, when the hand fell from her polished brow, and Alida raised her
face, with a look which denoted that she was no longer alone. The captain
drew back, to watch the issue.

When Alida lifted her eyes, it was in kindness, and with that frank
ingenuousness with which an unperverted female greets the countenance of
those who have her confidence. She smiled, though still in sadness rather
than in pleasure; and she spoke, but the distance prevented her words from
being audible. At the next instant, Seadrift moved into the space visible
through the half-drawn drapery, and took her hand. Alida made no effort to
withdraw the member; but, on the contrary, she looked up into his face
with still less equivocal interest, and appeared to listen to his voice
with an absorbed attention. The gate was swung violently open, and Ludlow
had reached the margin of the river before he again paused.

The barge of the Coquette was found where her commander had ordered his
people to lie concealed, and he was about to enter it, when the noise of
the little gate, again shutting with the wind, induced him to cast a look
behind. A human form was distinctly to be seen, against the light walls of
the villa, descending towards the river. The men were commanded to keep
close, and, withdrawing within the shadow of a fence, the captain waited
the approach of the new-comer.

As the unknown person passed, Ludlow recognized the agile form of the
free-trader. The latter advanced to the margin of the river, and gazed
warily about him for several minutes. A low but distinct note, on a common
ship's-call, was then heard. The summons was soon succeeded by the
appearance of a small skiff, which glided out of the grass on the opposite
side of the stream, and approached the spot where Seadrift awaited its
arrival. The free-trader sprang lightly into the little boat, which
immediately began to glide out of the river. As the skiff passed the spot
where he stood, Ludlow saw that it was pulled by a single seaman; and, as
his own boat was manned by six lusty rowers, he felt that the person of
the man whom he so much envied was at length