Brandon hurried up on deck and calling some of the sailors had the Hindu conveyed there. All crowded around him to ask him questions, and gradually found out about the attack of the pirates. The ship had been becalmed the day before, and the Malay proa was in sight, evidently with evil intentions. They had kept a good watch, and when the fog came had some hope of escape. But the Malay boats had sought them through the fog, and had found them. They had resisted well, but were overpowered by numbers. The Hindu had been cook of the ship, and had fought till the last by the side of his captain. Without waiting to hear the Hindu’s story Brandon went back to the cabin. The door that opened into the inner cabin was shut. He tried it. It was locked. He looked into the keyhole. It was locked from the inside. [Illustration: “SHE FLUNG HERSELF ON HER KNEES IN A TRANSPORT OF GRATITUDE.”] “Is any one there?” he asked. A cry of surprise was the sole answer. “You are safe. We are friends. Open!” cried Brandon. Then came the sound of light footsteps, the key was turned, the door slided back, and there appeared before the astonished eyes of Brandon a young girl, who, the moment that she saw him, flung herself on her knees in a transport of gratitude and raised her face to Heaven, while her lips uttered inaudible words of thanksgiving. She was quite a young girl, with a delicate, slender frame, and features of extreme loveliness. Her complexion was singularly colorless. Her eyes were large, dark, and luminous. Her hair fell in rich masses over her shoulders. In one hand she held a knife, to which she clung with a death-like tenacity. “Poor child!” murmured Brandon, in accents of tenderest commiseration. “It is but little that you could do with that knife.” She looked up at him as she knelt, then looked at the keen glittering steel, and, with a solemnity of accent which showed how deeply she was in earnest, murmured, half to herself, “It could at least have saved me!” Brandon smiled upon her with such a smile as a father might give at seeing the spirit or prowess of some idolized son. “There is no need,” he said, with a voice of deep feeling, “there is no need of that now. You are saved. You are avenged. Come with me.” The girl rose. “But wait,” said Brandon, and he looked at her earnestly and most pityingly. “There are things here which you should not see. Will you shut your eyes and let me lead you?” “I can bear it,” said the girl. “I will not shut my eyes.” “You must,” said Brandon, firmly, but still pityingly, for he thought of that venerable woman who lay in blood outside the door. The girl looked at him and seemed at first as though about to refuse. There was something in his face so full of compassion, and entreaty, and calm control, that she consented. She closed her eyes and held out her hand. Brandon took it and led her through the place of horror and up to the deck.