make terms
while we can."

Several others expressed the same opinion. Indeed, it was evident that
further resistance was useless. The ship was already in possession of
the enemy. The captain was not with them. Where he was, no one knew.
Too probably he was wounded; perhaps killed. Colonel Armytage was a
prisoner. The first officer lay desperately wounded in the front rank
of the little band, who had so gallantly held out to the last.

"Drop your swords, brave enemies, and the Frenchman who makes another
stroke at your head, dies," said the voice.

Although many had but little faith in the promise, they yielded to
necessity. The captors, however, kept their word.

The captain, a stout middle-aged man, came forward, and taking the
swords of the officers, bowed to the group of ladies, and assured them
that everything in his power would be done for their accommodation.

"Oh, bring my father, then!" exclaimed Miss Armytage. "Let us attend to
him, should he be hurt."

"The officer, my lieutenant, took prisoner?--certainly. He shall be
placed under your charge, madam," answered the captain, with a bow.

As soon as it was daylight, the English part of the Indiaman's crew,
with the officers, as well as the military men among the passengers,
were removed on board her captor, which proved to be "La Sybille," a
French privateer corvette. Her name had lately become known for the
havoc she had committed among the British merchantmen, many of which had
been carried off, but what had afterwards become of them it had not been
hitherto ascertained.

It was a great relief to Edda to receive a visit from Captain Winslow.
He was wounded, and having been knocked down and stunned when the
Frenchman boarded, he had not recovered till the ship was completely in
their power.

Several of the Indiaman's officers and crew had been killed or wounded,
but the bloody signs of the conflict had been removed when the ladies
once more appeared on deck. Strangers navigated the ship, and Edda
observed that her Calcutta acquaintance had the command. He approached,
however, but seldom, and always with the signs of the most profound
respect. Edda sometimes observed him standing at a distance, watching
her, with his arms folded on his bosom, and a melancholy expression in
his countenance. Still, she did not altogether like his look, though it
would have been difficult for her to determine why. One thing certainly
was against him. He