Seeing the helpless and terrified condition she was in, Mr. Ringbolt almost forced her to imbibe a little weak brandy and water from a liqueur-frame that stood on the cabin-table; and then, as there were no female attendants on board the yacht, with considerable readiness and forethought, brought down from the deck a Vierlander boat-woman, who had come off with vegetables for the steward and cook, to attend upon Ellinor. The Vierlander had some doubts and scruples at first; but when a few twenty-groschen pieces were slipped into her hand these evaporated, and a smile of acquiescence spread over her weather-beaten but pleasant-looking countenance, for she had soft, dark eyes, a _nez retrousse_ decidedly, and, if rather a large mouth, full red lips, as Mr. Ringbolt could remark appreciatively. She took Ellinor into an inner cabin, and soon changed her wet garments for some that the late fair voyagers had left behind them; and when, in fear and terror, she implored to be set on shore, she was told that it was impossible, as a heavy fog had suddenly settled down on the land and river. 'Oh, heaven, what will become of me? Mary! Mary!' wailed Ellinor, as she clung, as if for protection, to the hands of the picturesquely-clad Vierlander. 'Hope I haven't brought you a Scotch prize aboard, gentlemen,' said Mr. Ringbolt, winking knowingly, as he mixed himself a glass of grog. 'A Scotch prize--what the devil is that?' asked Mr. Dewsnap, whose cognomen among his chums was generally 'Dolly.' 'Well--it means a mistake--worse than no prize--one likely to hamper the captors with heavy legal expenses.' 'A Scotch prize, and no mistake!' exclaimed Sleath, as Ellinor, weak, tottering, and scarcely able to stand or articulate, appeared with her new attendant at the door of the cabin, which was now so darkened by the evening fog that the steward was lighting the lamps. Sleath, approaching, attempted to take her hand. 'Don't, sir--dare to touch me!' she cried, in a weak voice, while starting back. 'She knows you, Sleath, by Jove!' exclaimed Mr. Dolly Dewsnap, becoming interested. 'Rather,' said Sleath, with an ugly wink. 'Are you not glad to see me so unexpectedly, Ellinor?' 'Glad!' said she, shudderingly. Her old repugnance was now increased tenfold, and mingled with genuine terror. A man with such a bearing and with such an expression as she read in the cold blue eyes of Sleath, would, she knew, have no mercy, so she turned to Dewsnap; but there was little to encourage her in his leery and _blasé_, though rather rubicund, visage. 'Put me on shore, sir, I entreat you,' she said. 'It is impossible--utterly impossible, till the fog lifts,' said he, emphatically. 'I shall die!' exclaimed Ellinor, in a low, husky voice, as the light seemed to leave her eyes.