yager on board the ill-fated bark.

Though he had held but slight converse with his youthful _compagnon du
voyage_, and knew but little either of her moral or intellectual
character, he was nevertheless most intimately acquainted with her
personal appearance. There was not a feature in her pretty, sweet face,
not a ringlet in her jetty curling hair, with which his eyes were not
perfectly familiar.

Ofttimes had he stood,--half-screened behind the sails,--gazing upon her
as she loitered by the cabin hatch, surrounded by rude ruffian forms,
like a little white lamb in the midst of so many wolves.

Ofttimes had the sight caused his pulse to beat and his heart to throb
with throes in which pain and pleasure were equally commingled, but the
cause of which he could not comprehend.

Now, seated side by side with this young creature on board the
_Catamaran_,--even on that frail embarkation, which at any moment might
be scattered to the winds, or whelmed under the black billows of the
sea,--the sailor-boy no longer felt pain while gazing in her face, but
only that sweet incomprehensible pleasure.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

TOO LATE!

Nearly two hours had transpired since the starting of the _Catamaran_,--
during which time but little change took place in the relative positions
of those on board. Then, however, Snowball having finished the stowage
of his stores, proposed taking his turn at steering. The offer was
willingly accepted by the sailor, who, relinquishing his hold upon the
oar, went forward amidships. There he had placed his old sea-chest;
and, kneeling in front of it, he commenced rummaging among its contents,
with the design of making himself more familiar with them, and seeing
whether he might not discover some article inside that would be
serviceable under the circumstances.

William and Lilly Lalee still remained by the head,--the boy habitually
keeping a lookout over the ocean, but at frequent intervals turning his
glances towards her who sat by his side, and endeavouring to interest
her with his conversation.

The girl could not speak English,--only a few phrases which she had
picked up from English or American seamen, who had visited her father's
fort upon the African coast. These, though by her repeated in all
innocence, were neither of the most refined character, nor yet
sufficiently comprehensive to enable her to hold any lengthened
dialogue. It was in her own tongue that the conversation be