Hildebrand, leaving him to carry his injunctions into effect, here turned away, and passed forward to the young Spaniard. Taking that person by the arm, he led him aft, where a hatchway, opening on a close ladder, allowed them to descend to the cabin. A lighted lamp, which was fastened with a screw to a stout oak table, on one side of the cabin, enabled the Spaniard to survey this apartment, and its snug aspect seemed to take him by surprise. Though not more than ten feet square, it was arranged with so much compactness, and such excellent taste, that it looked quite roomy. There were no settles or stools, but a locker, or projecting box, ran round the sides; and the top of this, which abutted about a foot from the main wainscot, served for seats. Both the locker and wainscot, which lined the cabin throughout, were of fine-grained oak, polished very high, and capped by a moulding of the same material. The wainscot opened on either side, about halfway up, with a panelled slide, and exhibited, within, a small recess, or, to borrow a nautical phrase, berth, which a mattress and blankets intimated to be a sleeping-place. In the quarter that faced the door, or entrance, which opened towards the fore part of the ship, an attempt had been made, by a not untasteful hand, to lend the sombre hue of the wainscot some degree of decoration; and on a panel at either end, four pistols had been ranged in a circle, with their barrels turned towards each other, which had a very pleasing effect. On the opposite side of the cabin, shooting up from the hold, a part of the ship’s mainmast was visible; and in front of this, fitting to its abutting round, was the cabin-table, which, like the wainscot, was of oak, and exhibited a fine and brilliant polish. While the young Spaniard was noting these several particulars, Hildebrand drew forth from his vest, with a somewhat tremulous hand, the note he had brought him from Inez. Inclining his head towards the light, he tore it open, and read therein these words:-- “The bearer hereof, my fair cousin, Don Rafaele, being now here in peril of his life, must needs accompany thee to England. Thou canst not see me now; but as thou bearest thyself towards him, whom I give over to thy protection, so shalt thou hereafter be regarded by “INEZ.” Hastily raising his eyes, Hildebrand saw that, while he was reading the letter, Don Rafaele had been watching him, but that he had averted his gaze directly he raised his head. Concerned at his discomposure, he hastened to give him such a welcome as, in the hurry of the moment, he thought might re-assure him. “Fair Sir, be of better heart;” he said, cordially clasping his hand. “Thine own good parts would make me glad to be thy friend; but for her sake who wrote this note, and whom we may never see more, I will hold thee dearer than mine own self.” “I thank you,” faltered the cavalier, without raising his eyes.