ead away,
the mainsail filled, and we stood out to sea.

Here I was then, and would be for four-and-twenty hours at the least,
by the side of her whom a little time before I would have given years
of my life to have been near but for a minute; yet, with an
unaccountable irresolution, I still delayed, nay, shrunk from, the
long-sought interview. It was not till her father had gone into the
little cabin to arrange it for her reception, and had closed the door
between us, that I ventured from my hiding-place behind the foresail,
and approached her where she stood gazing mournfully over the boat's
side at the fast passing shores of her country. I whispered her name;
she knew my voice at the first syllable, and turned in amazed delight;
but the flush of pleasure which lit up her beautiful features as I
clasped her hand, had hardly dawned ere it was chased by the rising
paleness of alarm. I comforted her by assurances of eternal love, and
vowed to follow her to the ends of the earth in despite of every human
power. We stood alone; for two sailors were with O'More and the girl
in the cabin, and the third, having lashed the tiller to, was fixing
something forward. We stood alone I cannot guess how long--time is
short, but the joy of those moments has been everlasting. We exchanged
vows of mutual affection and constancy, and I had sealed our blessed
compact with a kiss, witnessed only by the moon and stars, when the
cabin-door opened, and her father stood before me. I held out my hand,
and accosted him with the free confidence of a joyful heart. The
severe light of the moon sharpened his strong features into startling
expression, as he regarded me for a second with mingled astonishment
and vexation. He did not seem to notice my offered hand; but, saying
something in a low cold tone about the unexpected pleasure, turned to
the steersman, and demanded fiercely why he had not abided by his
agreement? The sailor, quailing before the authoritative tone and
aspect of his really noble-looking questioner, began an exculpatory
account of my having been brought thither by Ingram, to whom he
referred.

Bold Paul was beginning with "Lookee, Squire, I'm master of this same
craft," when I interrupted him by requesting that he would take his
messmates to the bows, and leave the helm with me, as I wished to
explain the matter myself in private. He consigned his soul, in set
terms, to the devil, if any other man than myself should be allowed t