make them, but all betraying some of the signs of his recent trials. His fine countenance was full of the love he bore for the intrepid and devoted girl who had risked so much in his behalf; and a painter might have wished to preserve the expression of ardent, manly admiration which glowed in his face, answering to the gentle sympathy and womanly tenderness it met in that of Rose. The back-ground of this picture was the wide, even surface of the coral reef, with its exterior setting of the dark and gloomy sea. On the side of the channel, however, appeared the boat, already winded, with Biddy still on the rock, looking kindly at the lovers by the fire, while Jack was holding the painter, beginning to manifest a little impatience at the delay. “They'll stay there an hour, holding each other's hands, and looking into each other's faces,” half grumbled the little, rotund, assistant-steward, anxious to be on his way back to the brig, “unless a body gives 'em a call. Captain Spike will be in no very good humour to receive you and me on board ag'in, if he should find out what sort of a trip we've been making hereaway.” “Let 'em alone--let 'em alone, Jacky,” answered the good-natured and kind-hearted Irish woman. “It's happy they bees, jist now, and it does my eyes good to look at 'em.” “Ay, they're happy enough, _now;_ I only hope it may last.” “Last! what should help its lasting? Miss Rose is so good, and so handsome--and she's a fortin', too; and the mate so nice a young man. Think of the likes of them, Jack, wantin' the blessed gift of wather, and all within one day and two nights. Sure it's Providence that takes care of, and not we ourselves! Kings on their thrones is n't as happy as _them_ at this moment.” “Men's willians!” growled Jack; “and more fools women for trustin' 'em.” “Not sich a nice young man as our mate, Jacky; no, not he. Now the mate of the ship I came from Liverpool in, this time ten years agone, he was a villain. He grudged us our potaties, and our own bread; and he grudged us every dhrap of swate wather that went into our mouths. Call him a villain, if you will, Jack; but niver call the likes of Mr. Mulford by so hard a name.” “I wish him well, and nothing else; and for that very reason must put a stop to his looking so fondly into that young woman's face. Time wont stand still, Biddy, to suit the wishes of lovers; and Stephen Spike is a man not to be trifled with. Halloo, there, maty! It's high time to think of getting under way.”