The order was therefore given to clear the deck for the reception of the pirates. The mandate was received by the crew in sullen silence, and a few of the younger and more fiery of the sailors were seen to shake their heads, as if they disapproved of a step, however necessary, that seemed thus cowardly. Whatever might have been the private feelings of the captain, when the character and force of his enemy were clearly established, he betrayed no signs of indecision from the time when his resolution appeared to be taken. He issued the further requisite commands from the spot where he first stood, in perfect calmness, and with that distinctness and readiness so important to one in his position. A boat was at once lowered by the sloop and filled with armed hands, which rowed to take possession of their easy prize. The eye of the passenger never quitted the vessel as it approached. The main-deck presented a picture of mingled unquietness and repose. Many of the seamen were seen seated on their guns, with their cheeks pressing the rude metal which served them for a pillow. Others lay along the deck with their heads resting on the hatches. A first glance might have induced the belief that all were buried in the most profound slumber. But the quick jerking of a line, the sudden shifting of a position, required only to be noticed to prove that the living silence that reigned throughout was not born either of apathy or repose. “Perhaps you might pacify them by fair words,” said the young man, as he still stood by the captain’s side. “There is no hope of that.” “Is there not a lady below?” “There is,” answered the captain. “I had forgotten her until this moment.” “I will see to her,” replied the other, and turning away, he quickly disappeared below. He had known that there was a female on board, but as she had throughout the passage kept the cabin, and taken all her meals in private, he had not yet seen her. When he entered, she was seated at a table in the centre of the cabin. An elbow rested on it, and one fair hand supported a brow that was thoughtful even beyond the usual character of its expression. He felt the blood rush to his heart, for he fancied the beautiful and pensive countenance before him was familiar. He stood uncertain, when the hand was removed from her face, and raising her head, she perceived that she was no longer alone. Their eyes met, and each started with a mutual glance of recognition. In her he beheld the wife and daughter of the regicides; and she, in turn, had little difficulty in tracing in his features, now matured to manhood, those of the youth who had borne the basket of provisions to and fro, and who had spent a night in the cave. In a word, Alice Heath and Frank Stanley had met.