In short, Mr. Julius Luxmore did as he pleased. His rule “there was none to dispute.” The old man was duped; the young maiden fascinated; and the quadroon, even if she escaped the spell of his deceit, was, since deprived of her coadjutor, Louis, notwithstanding her intellectual brightness, but a meek creature, to be cunningly managed rather than feared. His schooner had for some weeks remained at anchor near the Isle; but the negro crew were forbidden to leave her deck, and so had never approached the beach. Every day Mr. Luxmore had visited the vessel to look after the safety of the craft, and the necessities of the men. And when at last it was convenient to do so, he had taken two of the Island sailors, embarked with them on the schooner, and set sail for Norfolk, where he paid off and discharged his hired men. Then, having thus got rid of the “aliens,” he purchased some books and pictures for Etoile, and a gorgeous purple dressing-gown for “His Majesty,” and with the two home negroes, set sail for the Isle. After a short and pleasant voyage, he arrived there to rejoice all hearts. And it is difficult to decide whether was Etoile the more delighted with her books and pictures, or “His Majesty” with his royal robe. It is not to be supposed, however, that a man of Julius Luxmore’s age, habits, and temperament, could be content to confine himself within the contracted limits of a sea-girt Island, with no other society than an old lunatic, a young maiden, and a troop of negro slaves, and with no change of scene than an occasional voyage to Heathville, to sell a cargo of corn or fish. With all Etoile’s delightful beauty, she was but a child; with all his golden prospects, the time passed heavily; he was wearied, bored; he no longer wondered that Etoile pined for “the glorious world beyond.” He himself, who knew it well to be any thing but “glorious,” also pined for it. In a word, he felt the necessity of devising some plan of safe and frequent intercourse with “the rest of mankind.” But this communication with his fellow-creatures, to be secure, must be, like the “reciprocity” of some people, all on one side. He must change the scene; must often go somewhere; but no one else should ever come to the Island. No one should know of the precious treasure hidden there. But we will, for the present, leave this delectable young gentleman to make the best of his good fortune, while we go back after his forsaken love, Captain Barbara Brande, and her noble passenger. CHAPTER XXIV. BARBARA’S VOYAGE.