"May I beg you briefly to explain the object of your visit?" said the Baronet at last, after a perplexing pause, during which the arms of the Buccaneer were folded on his breast, and his restless and vigilant eyes wandered round the apartment, flashing with an indefinable expression, when they encountered the blue retreating orbs of Sir Robert. "This, then: I require a free pardon from Old Noll, not not only for myself, but for my crew. The brave men, who would have died, shall live, with me. As a return for his Highness's civility, I will give up all free trade, and take the command of a frigate, if it so please him." "Or a revenue cutter, I presume," observed the Baronet, sarcastically. "Curse me if I do!" replied Dalton, contemptuously--"the sharks! No, no, I'm not come to that yet; nor would I ever think of hoisting any flag but mine own, were it not for the sake of a small craft, as belonging to--no matter what." "You have seen but little of the girl." "Too little: and why? Because I was _ashamed_ to see her--but now--not ten minutes ago--I was glad she did not know me. Sir Robert, when your own daughter hangs upon your arm, or looks with her innocent eyes into your face, how do you feel?" Sir Robert Cecil had been too well schooled in Puritanism to suffer the emotions of his mind to affect his features. He did not reply to the question, but skilfully turning the conversation, brought the intruder back to his old subject. "How do you purpose procuring this free pardon?" "I! I know not how to procure it; I only wish it procured: the means are in your power, not mine." "In mine!" ejaculated the Baronet with well-feigned astonishment; "you mistake, good Dalton, I have no interest at Whitehall; I would not ask a favour for myself." "That is likely; but you must ask one for me." "_Must!_" repeated Sir Robert, "is a strange word to use to me, Dalton." "I'm not scholar enough to find a better," replied the other insolently. "I cannot if I would," persisted the Baronet. "One word more, then. The Protector's plans render it impracticable for me to continue, as I have done, on the seas: I know that I am a marked man, and unless something be determined on, and speedily, I shall be exposed to that ignominy which, for my child's sake, I would avoid. Don't talk to me of impossibilities; you _can_ obtain the pardon I desire, and, in one word, Sir Robert Cecil, you _must_!" Sir Robert shook his head. "At your pleasure, then, at your pleasure; but at your peril also. Mark me! I am not one to be thrown overboard, and make no struggle--I am not a baby to be strangled without crying! If I perish, facts shall arise from my grave--ay, if I were sunk a thousand fathoms in my own blue sea--facts that would---- You may well tremble and turn pale! The secret is still in our keeping; only remember, I fall not singly!" "Insulting villain!" said Sir Robert, regaining his self-command; "you have now no facts, no proofs; the evidence is destroyed."