Great tears fell from the eyes of honest Captain Jones. He was an old sailor, but to salt water in this form he had long been a stranger. He tried to speak, but the voice that had been heard above the tumult of many a storm, was now choked and husky. In an instant he regained his self-command, and said, “You have found the right man, Daph! No harm shall come to them so long as my name is Jeremiah Jones! The Martha Jane can skim the water like a wild duck, and will be off towards a better country before ten minutes are over!” The words were hardly out of Captain Jones’s mouth, before he left his tent-like cabin, and in a moment he was heard giving orders for instant departure. The energy that had borne Daph through her hour of trial, seemed to desert her, now that her object was attained, and she sank down beside the little ones, sobbing like a child. She felt herself a poor, helpless, ignorant creature, going she knew not whither, and having assumed a charge she knew not how to fulfil. “De great Lord, dat missus loves, can take care of us!” thought the humble negro; “He can give poor Daph sense to mind de babies!” In her ignorance, she knew not how to pray, but she leaned in simple faith upon the only source of strength, and found consolation. In a half-hour after the arrival of Daph on board the Martha Jane, the trim little vessel was speeding on her homeward course. Captain Jones walked the deck in deep meditation, while from their various positions his crew watched him with curious glances. The sailors well knew that Daph was still on board, but no one had dared to question the captain’s orders for putting instantly out to sea. Jeremiah Jones was a thorough republican, when at home in good old Massachusetts; but once on board the Martha Jane, he ruled with the despotic power of the Emperor of all the Russias. His crew were accustomed to submission, and murmuring was never heard among them. They had indeed no cause for discontent, for Captain Jones was just, kind-hearted, and high-principled, and he wisely ruled his little realm. The good captain had acted upon a sudden impulse, for promptness was required, but now came a time for sober reflection. “If the darky has not told the truth;” so reasoned he; “what has Jeremiah Jones been doing? He has kidnapped a valuable servant and carried off two children, belonging to a man who has the power and wealth to make said Jeremiah suffer for his madness. The thing has been done publicly, and these fellows of mine may think it for their interest to deliver me up, as soon as I set foot in old Boston!” These meditations did not seem to increase the peace of mind of the worthy New Englander. He walked the deck impatiently for a few minutes, and then drew near the objects of his anxious thought.