seen him--and--I have such a dread of his coming
back!"

"But you are English, are you not?"

"Yes."

"And your father?"

"He is also English, and a slave. We have not met, nor have I heard of
him, since we were parted on board ship many months ago. Listen!"

CHAPTER FIVE.

THE MAIDEN'S STORY--PETER THE GREAT AND THE MIDDY GO FOR A HOLIDAY AND
SEE AWFUL THINGS.

During the conversation detailed in the last chapter the young English
girl had spoken with her veil down. She now threw it carelessly back,
and, sitting down on a bench opposite our midshipman, folded her hands
in her lap and remained silent for a few seconds, during which George
Foster said--not aloud, but very privately to himself, "Although your
eyes are swelled and your little nose is red with crying, I never--no I
never--did see such a dear, sweet, pretty little innocent face in all my
life!"

All unconscious of his thoughts, and still giving vent now and then to
an irresistible sob, the poor child--for she was little more--looked up
and began her sad tale.

"About eight months ago my dear father, who is a merchant, resolved to
take me with him on a voyage to some of the Mediterranean ports. My
father's name is Hugh Sommers--"

"And yours?" asked Foster.

"Is Hester. We had only just entered the Mediterranean when one of
those dreadful Algerine pirates took our vessel and made slaves of us
all. My darling father, being a very big, strong, and brave man, fought
like a tiger. Oh! I never imagined that his dear kind face _could_
have looked as it did that awful day. But although he knocked down and,
I fear, killed many men, it was all of no use, they were so numerous and
our men so few. The last I saw of my father was when they were lowering
him into a boat in a state of insensibility, with an awful cut all down
his brow and cheek, from which the blood was pouring in streams.

"I tried to get to him, but they held me back and took me down into the
cabin. There I met our owner, who, when he saw me, threw a veil over my
head and bade me sit still. I was too terrified and too despairing
about my father to think of disobeying.

"I think Ben-Ahmed, our owner, must be a man of power, for everybody
seemed to obey him that day as if he was the chief man, though he was
not the captain of the ship. After a time he took my hand, put me into
a small sailing boat, and took me ashore. I looked eagerly for my
father on landing, but he was