e to a very ordinary gown fashioned by her mother
and herself, which added so few charms to her young face and sparkling
eyes that Dickory often thought that he wished there were some bushes on
deck so that she might stand behind them and let him see only her face,
as he had seen it when first he met her. But he saw the pretty face a
great deal, for Lucilla was very anxious to know things, and asked many
questions about Barbadoes, and also asked if there was any probability
that the brig would go straight on to that lovely island without
bothering to stop at Jamaica. It was during such talks as this that
Dickory forgot, when he did forget, the blood-stained letter that he
carried with him always.

Our young friend still wore the naval uniform, although in coming on the
brig he had changed it for some rough sailor's clothes. But Lucilla had
besought him to be again a brave lieutenant.

They sailed and they sailed, and there was but little wind, and that
from the south and against them. But Lucilla did not complain at their
slow progress. The slowest vessel in the world was preferable just now
to a desert island which never moved.

Davids was at the wheel and Mander stood near him. These old friends had
not yet finished talking about what had happened in the days since they
had seen each other. Mrs. Mander sat, not far away, still making
clothes, and the little Lena was helping her in her childlike way.
Lucilla and Dickory were still talking about Barbadoes. There never was
a girl who wanted to know so much about an island as that girl wanted to
know about Barbadoes.

Suddenly there was a shout from above.

"What's that?" asked Mander.

"A sail," said Davids, peering out over the sea but able to see nothing.
Lucilla and Dickory did not cease talking. At that moment Lucilla did
not care greatly about sails, there was so much to be said about
Barbadoes.

There was a good deal of talking forward, and after a while the captain
walked to the quarter-deck. He was a gruff man and his face was
troubled.

"I am sorry to say," he growled, "that the ship we have sighted is a
pirate; she flies the black flag."

Now there was no more talk about Barbadoes, or what had happened to old
friends, and the sewing dropped on the deck. Those poor Manders were
chilled to the soul. Were they again to be taken by pirates?

"Captain," cried Mander, "what can we do, can we run away from them?"

"We could not run away from their guns,"