’But mine were killed,’ said Etta, feeling as if she had known Harry a long time. ’It is five years since I have been a captive here. You do not know, I dare say, that this island was in the hands of pirates at that time. There was a Sieur Simon ruling it for the pirate Mansfelt, who was, they said, never happy except at sea. But the Governor of Costa Rica determined to take back Saint Catherine, and when the pirates heard this they sent to ask help of the English Governor of Jamaica, for he was said to sympathise with them. He refused, and pretended to have nothing to say to them; but he hired a merchant ship, as if for honest trade, and fitted it with stores, and put in some of the pirates that found shelter in Jamaica, and gave them and the captain private instructions. My father, who was an honest merchant, never knew of this; and, wishing to take my mother and me to Costa Rica, took passage in this same ship, but on nearing the island the Sieur Simon came aboard and begged the crew to sail into harbour. Yet it was all a wicked device, for the Spaniards had already possession of the island; so that when we landed we were all seized and taken prisoners. My father and some of the others defended themselves bravely, but they were outnumbered before our eyes, and were killed. Mother and myself were brought to one of Don Estevan del Campo’s fortresses, and she died of grief there after some weeks. Then the Marquis said I was to be treated well, for he wished me to become the playfellow to his daughter and son who were coming here shortly, so that I might teach them English. Before her death my mother gave me letters and directions, telling me if ever I could get back to my relations in England I was to do so. But how can I? We are indeed both alike prisoners, and I see no chance of getting away.’ Harry listened to Etta’s story with much surprise; it made him see that after all he was not the only English sufferer even in these distant islands, and that others had had a much worse fate--for he had been well treated. ’But they are kind to you?’ he asked, glancing at Carlo, who, having persuaded Felipa to come forth from her hiding-place, was sitting with his arm round her near the window and telling her of his meeting with the English youth. ’Kind? Ah, yes. I love Carlo and Felipa dearly, and old Catalina is not harsh; but I am afraid of the Marquis; I can never love him, for he looks upon me as one of his slaves.’ ’He must be a false Spaniard, a feeble scoundrel, and no true gentleman,’ said Harry decidedly, and then in a few words he told his own story, and how, in spite of being such a favourite with Captain Morgan, he had sometimes much to bear from the rough men. At this moment, however, Carlo jumped up and exclaimed: ’There is my father returning, and, gracious saints, he is a prisoner!’ CHAPTER IX. IMPRISONED.