"Nay"--as I would have interrupted him, "do not raise thy hand. I have seen maidens before now. Did I not watch her as I told my story, and see the soft color come and go in her cheeks, and the tears in her beautiful eyes? A lady looks not thus but for one man, and that him whom she loves. Believe me, I have seen many damsels. This one loves thee," and he looked at me sagely. I laughed bitterly. "It may be so, Steele, and yet if she does she has a passing strange way of showing it. Why, even now, man, the rumor is that she weds Lord Dunraven! How dost thou account for that?" He bent his head as though in thought for a moment. "I know not," he said with a sigh. "Many strange things have I seen in my journey through this life, but the strangest of all, I think, my friend, is a maid. One mind to-day; another to-morrow. I had as lieve try to account for the storm, as to say what a lady would do to-day or to-morrow. I cannot say what the maiden will do--perhaps she will marry Dunraven, but this much I repeat, deep down in her heart she loves thee." I mused a moment, my head upon my hands. Could it be possible?--but no; Steele was mistaken. The lady was interested in the fate of a friend; was perhaps touched that I still thought of her--that was all. And then I thought of a question that I had pondered on so often since Steele left me, and had determined to ask if I should ever see him again. "What became of the women and children that were taken prisoners when DeNortier captured the galleon with the Spanish maid? I never saw them again, and have often wondered at their fate." His face darkened with a frown as he replied: "They went with us on board the ship, and when we had almost gotten to our destination, just before the lady and myself were transferred, we were hailed one day by an English merchant vessel, and the women and children were put aboard--to be sold as slaves to the Barbary pirates, a sailor afterwards told me." "Didst thou catch the name of the ship?" I asked. "This should be put a stop to, once and for all." "Yes," he replied, "'twas the 'Betsy' of London." "It was the very same ship on which we were carried to the pirate's vessel," I said. "The ruffian!" he answered indignantly, "he should be drawn and quartered. I sought high and low for some trace of the ship when I returned to England, but though I inquired in every city, nowhere could I hear of such a vessel. They told me there was no such ship. The name was probably a disguise." At that moment there came a knock upon the door, and the rough jailer thrust in his head. "Closing time, sir," he growled. "Thou must go." Steele arose to his feet, and we clasped hands in one last, long grasp. The honest fellow was almost overcome by his emotion. "God bless thee!" he said huskily. "I shall never forget thee, and what thou hast done for me and mine."