His voice, his whole frame so shook with emotion as he uttered these last words, that she caught the contagion and dropped her head upon his shoulder and burst into tears. He drew her closer to his heart and leaned over her. The rough sailors passing near saw all this, but they had long ago set this pair down as betrothed lovers, and their only feeling was of sympathy with them. “By ganny!” said one gray old sea dog as he passed, “if I could find a gal as spunky as that one, I’d spark her myself, old as I am!” Justin bent over Britomarte, delicately soothing her, more by looks and touch than by words. At last he said: “Do you know—can you imagine, dearest, how deeply, doubly grateful I am to Divine Providence that it is to you I owe my life? A good gift is always precious, but more precious from those we love, and more precious from the one we love most!” “Brother Justin,” she said, raising her head and smiling through her tears, “do not make more of this matter than it really is. I, too, am deeply grateful that I was enabled to save one who first saved me, and who for two long years toiled hard to keep me from starvation on that desert island. Say no more about that, brother; but oh! devoutly thank God with me that he has protected you through all the dangers of this dreadful day!” “I do—I do, Britomarte! that He has protected, not me alone, but us, for you have been throughout in as great danger as any here. Oh, Heaven! when I think of that I——” “Brother Justin,” interrupted Britomarte, recovering her old tone, “whatever we do, don’t let us grow sentimental.” “We will not. But this I will say, and you must hear: By one of the most heroic acts that man or woman ever dared, at the most imminent risk of your own life, you have saved mine. But I tell you now, Britomarte Conyers, that the life you have saved is worthless, and worse than worthless to me, unless you will allow me to devote it henceforth and forever to you!” Again his voice and his whole frame shook with the intensity of his emotions. She, too, was deeply agitated; but with a queenly effort she regained the sovereignty over herself and answered gravely: “I am ashamed of you, brother Justin. That sentiment was quite unworthy of the mighty champion of the _Xyphias_, who carried terror into the hearts of the _Sea Scourgers_. Devote your life to God and to his suffering humanity, and leave me to do the same.” And she was about to leave him to return to her wounded in the cockpit, when something in his aspect, that was not sentiment, or passion, or anything like either, alarmed her. “Justin—brother! how ill you look! What is the matter? Is it possible that you are wounded?” she breathlessly demanded. “Fatigued, dear sister, fatigued.” “But you are so pale?” “Have you not seen me as pale as this after a day’s work on the island?” “Yes, sometimes, when the weather was very warm.”