great deal
of credit for the action. I found several letters from my sister, the
contents of which gave me much pain. My father had been some months in
Ireland, and returned without gaining any information. My sister said
that he was very unhappy, paid no attention to his clerical duties, and
would sit for days without speaking. That he was very much altered in
his appearance, and had grown thin and care-worn. "In short," said she
"my dear Peter, I am afraid that he is fretting himself to death. Of
course, I am very lonely and melancholy. I cannot help reflecting upon
what will be my situation if any accident should happen to my father.
Accept my uncle's protection I will not; yet, how am I to live, for my
father has saved nothing? I have been very busy lately, trying to
qualify myself for a governess, and practise the harp and piano for
several hours every day. I shall be very, very glad when you come home
again." I showed the letters to O'Brien, who read them with much
attention. I perceived the colour mount into his cheeks, when he read
those parts of her letters in which she mentioned his name, and
expressed her gratitude for his kindness towards me.

"Never mind, Peter," said O'Brien, returning me the letters; "to whom is
it that I am indebted for my promotion, and this brig, but to you--and
for all the prize-money which I have made, and which, by the head of St
Patrick, comes to a very dacent sum, but to you? Make yourself quite
easy about your dear little sister. We'll club your prize-money and mine
together, and she shall marry a duke, if there is one in England
deserving her; and it's the French that shall furnish her dowry, as sure
as the _Rattlesnake_ carries a tail."

Chapter XLVII

I am sent away after prizes, and meet with a hurricane--Am driven on
shore, with the loss of more than half my men--Where is the
_Rattlesnake?_

In three weeks we were again ready for sea, and the admiral ordered us
to our old station off Martinique. We had cruised about a fortnight off
St Pierre's, and, as I walked the deck at night, often did I look at the
lights in the town, and wonder whether any of them were in the presence
of Celeste, when, one evening, being about six miles off shore, we
observed two vessels rounding Negro Point, close in-shore. It was quite
calm, and the boats were towing ahead.

"It will be dark in half-an-hour, Peter," said O'Brien, "and I think we
might get them before they anchor, or, if