This order was still more ungraciously complied with. As Blanche handed to the bandit captain her bracelet, she endeavored to conceal a diamond necklace, the gift of Mr. Rawjester, in her bosom. But, with a demoniac grin, the powerful brute tore it from its concealment, and administering a hearty box on the ear of the young girl, flung her aside. It was now my turn. With a beating heart I made my way to the robber chieftain, and sank at his feet. “Oh, sir, I am nothing but a poor governess, pray let me go.” “Oho! A governess? Give me your last month’s wages, then. Give me what you have stolen from your master!” and he laughed fiendishly. I gazed at him quietly, and said, in a low voice: “I have stolen nothing from you, Mr. Rawjester!” “Ah, discovered! Hush! listen, girl!” he hissed, in a fierce whisper; “utter a syllable to frustrate my plans, and you die; aid me, and”—But he was gone. In a few moments the party, with the exception of myself, were gagged and locked in the cellar. The next moment torches were applied to the rich hangings, and the house was in flames. I felt a strong hand seize me, and bear me out in the open air and place me up on the hillside, where I could overlook the burning mansion. It was Mr. Rawjester. “Burn!” he said, as he shook his fist at the flames. Then sinking on his knees before me, he said hurriedly,— “Mary Jane, I love you; the obstacles to our union are or will be soon removed. In yonder mansion were confined my three crazy wives. One of them, as you know, attempted to kill me! Ha! this is vengeance! But will you be mine?” I fell, without a word, upon his neck. MR. MIDSHIPMAN BREEZY A NAVAL OFFICER BY CAPTAIN M-RRY-T, R. N. CHAPTER I My father was a north-country surgeon. He had retired, a widower, from her Majesty’s navy many years before, and had a small practice in his native village. When I was seven years old he employed me to carry medicines to his patients. Being of a lively disposition, I sometimes amused myself, during my daily rounds, by mixing the contents of the different phials. Although I had no reason to doubt that the general result of this practice was beneficial, yet, as the death of a consumptive curate followed the addition of a strong mercurial lotion to his expectorant, my father concluded to withdraw me from the profession and send me to school. Grubbins, the schoolmaster, was a tyrant, and it was not long before my impetuous and self-willed nature rebelled against his authority. I soon began to form plans of revenge. In this I was assisted by Tom Snaffle,—a schoolfellow. One day Tom suggested,— “Suppose we blow him up. I’ve got two pounds of powder!” “No, that’s too noisy,” I replied. Tom was silent for a minute, and again spoke:—