Morton, could not forbear smiling at the old man's unwillingness to employ a piece of machinery, at the present day so indispensable in our government throughout all its branches; he assured him that nothing was more simple; it was only to wait upon the Don in private, and request his acceptance of either cash or certain valuable merchandize, that would be attractive in the sight of the governor. "There are my silver-mounted pistols, and curious East India dagger, and my rifle, that all might be thrown out as baits to begin with;"--it was all in vain; the blunt old seaman still persisted that bribery, or any thing that approximated it, was but a dirty affair after all; and that, although he would leave no plan untried to effect the liberation of the prisoners, there was a moral contamination attached to the mode proposed that he neither could nor would submit to. True to his appointment, Captain Williams, soon after sunset, repaired to dame Juanita's shop, with the location of which he had previously made himself acquainted. He was introduced by that worthy old lady into her back parlor, if a little apartment ten feet square, with a clay floor and no windows, deserves so dignified, or rather so _comfortable_ a title; and in half an hour a female, closely veiled, entered the room. Notwithstanding her disguise, the old seaman had tact enough to perceive that his companion was young and graceful, or in more modern language, genteel, while the silvery music of her voice, as she addressed him, convinced him that she could be no otherwise than beautiful. "Are you," said the lady, in a hesitating, tremulous voice, "are you the commander of the American ship in the bay?" "I am; and you, senorita, are the lady who wrote me the note that I received this morning?" "Yes, I--that is, I sent you a note requesting to see you." "And you are the generous, devoted, and true friend that takes such a lively interest in the fate of my friend and officer, and his companions in prison and misfortune?" "I am--I am," replied the lady hurriedly. "And you are, in short," continued the commander, rising and respectfully offering his hand, "you are the lady Isabella de Luna?" "I cannot deny it," said she in a faint voice. "Then, madam, you see before you one who is acquainted with your story. Nay, never hang your head for shame; Charles Morton is worth any woman's love. I am here ready with hand, heart, and head, to second any and every plan that you may propose, to effect his escape." The lady remained silent for a few moments, then placing her small hand in the broad, hard palm of the old seaman, replied, "I know that I can put the most implicit confidence in you. I have heard from others--why should I deny it? Mr. Morton has told me often, that, next to his father, he regards you with affection and esteem as his dearest and truest friend." "And he shall never be deceived in old Israel Williams, I can tell him that, nor shall you, my dear young lady."