have done it, Peter. Perhaps when I'm far away she'll bear it better.
Father McGrath will manage it."

"O'Brien, I don't like that Father McGrath."

"Well, Peter, you maybe right; I don't exactly like all he says myself;
but what is a man to do?--either he is a Catholic, and believes as a
Catholic, or he is not one. Will I abandon my religion, now that it is
persecuted? Never, Peter; I hope not, without I find a much better, at
all events. Still, I do not like to feel that this advice of my
confessor is at variance with my own conscience. Father McGrath is a
wordly man; but that only proves that he is wrong, not that our religion
is--and I don't mind speaking to you on this subject. No one knows that
I'm a Catholic except yourself: and at the Admiralty they never asked me
to take that oath which I never would have taken, although Father
McGrath says I may take any oath I please with what he calls heretics,
and he will grant me absolution. Peter, my dear fellow, say no more
about it."

I did not; but I may as well end the history of poor Ella Flanagan at
once, as she will not appear again. About three months afterwards, we
received a letter from Father McGrath, stating that the girl had arrived
safe, and had been a great comfort to O'Brien's father and mother, who
wished her to remain with them altogether; that Father McGrath had told
her that when a man took his commission as captain it was all the same
as going into a monastery as a monk, for he never could marry. The poor
girl believed him, and thinking that O'Brien was lost to her for ever,
with the advice of Father McGrath, had entered as a nun in one of the
religious houses in Ireland, that, as she said, she might pray for him
night and day. Many years afterwards, we heard of her--she was well,
and not unhappy but O'Brien never forgot his behaviour to this poor
girl. It was a source of continual regret; and I believe, until the
last day of his existence, his heart smote him for his inconsiderate
conduct towards her. But I must leave this distressing topic, and
return to the _Rattlesnake_, which had now arrived at the West Indies,
and joined the admiral at Jamaica.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

DESCRIPTION OF THE COAST OF MARTINIQUE--POPPED AT FOR PEEPING--NO
HEROISM IN MAKING ONESELF A TARGET--BOARD A MINIATURE NOAH'S ARK, UNDER
YANKEE COLOURS--CAPTURE A FRENCH SLAVER--PARROT SOUP IN LIEU OF MOCK
TURTLE.

We found orders at Barbadoes to cruise off