who had always
been brought up as a Frenchman, might think on the subject, he had begun
to wish that he could be engaged in fighting the battles of his native
country, instead of those of her enemies and oppressors.

Thinking of Hernan reminded him of his prisoner, and the old pirate
Tacon. To his adopted son the old man's life was of the greatest
importance. Should he be destroyed one chief witness of his identity
would be lost. He hurried below to release him. He was only just in
time to save him from suffocation, for the smoke was already finding its
way along the decks. He had found the armourer on his way, and ordering
him to knock off the prisoner's fetters, he dragged him up, and placed
him close to Colonel Armytage.

"Much depends on his safety: keep your eye on him, sir," he said.

A terrible idea occurred to him. The magazine had not been drowned.
Should it not be done, all on board might be blown to destruction. It
was a work of awful danger, for a spark might fly in before the powder
was destroyed, and produce the dreaded catastrophe. He gave the
necessary orders, and then devoted himself to other endeavours to save
the lives of some of those on board. That all could be saved, he knew
was impossible.

For some time longer, efforts were made to clear the fireship, and while
some of the crew were thus employed, others, under the captain's
superintendence, were endeavouring to form a raft, but at length the
flames seemed resolved to claim their victim. And now a scene of the
wildest confusion ensued. Many who had hitherto been exerting
themselves manfully abandoned all hope; some threw themselves overboard,
others rushed below to the spirit-store, hoping to reach it before the
fire had gained possession of the hold. Some rushed aft, imploring the
captain to save them, and shouting loudly for boats to come to their
assistance. No one among that multitude of rough men stood so calm and
resigned as Mrs Armytage and her daughter. Donna Julia was scarcely
less so; but her hands were clasped firmly, and every now and then she
moved a few paces with rapid steps up and down the deck, regardless of
the sparks which fell around her. Edda stood motionless, with her head
turned away from the flames, and her eye ranging with undefined hope
seaward, over the water.

"There are boats coming!--boats! boats!" was the cry.

A shout was raised by the remainder of the crew clustered on the
quarter-deck.

"L