"As many as you please, Brown," said the middy, laughing, as he poured out cupful after cupful; "there's no fear of your getting half-seas-over on that tipple!" "I only wish I _was_ half-seas-over, or even a quarter that length. Your health, sir!" returned Brown, with a sigh, as he drained the last cup. Just then Peter the Great burst into the kitchen in a very elated condition. "Geo'ge," he cried, "you be off. Massa wants you--'meeditly. But fust, let me ax--you understan' de place among de rocks whar Brown's mates and de boat am hidden?" "Yes, I know the place well." "You knows how to get to it?" "Of course I do." "Das all right; now come along--come along, you sham nigger, wid me. Has you got enuff?" "Bustin'--all but." "Das good now; you follow me; do what you's tol'; hol' you tongue, an' look sharp, if you don' want your head cut off." "Heave ahead, cap'n; I'm your man." The two left the house together and took the road that led to the hill country in rear of the dwelling. Meanwhile George Foster went to the chamber of the Moor. He found his master seated, as was his wont, with the hookah before him, but with the mouthpiece lying idly on his knee, and his forehead resting on one hand. So deeply was he absorbed in communing with his own thoughts, that he did not observe the entrance of his slave until he had been twice addressed. Then, looking up as if he had been slightly startled, he bade him sit down. "George Foster," he began impressively, at the same time applying a light to his hookah and puffing sedately, "you will be glad to hear that I have been successful with my suit to the Dey. God has favoured me; but a great deal yet remains to be done, and that must be done by _you_--else--" He stopped here, looked pointedly at the middy, and delivered the remainder of his meaning in pufflets of smoke. "I suppose you would say, sir, that unless it is done by me it won't be done at all?" To this the Moor nodded twice emphatically, and blew a thin cloud towards the ceiling. "Then you may count upon my doing my utmost, if that which I am to do is in the interest of Hester Sommers or her father, as no doubt it is." "Yes, it is in their interest," rejoined Ben-Ahmed. "I have done my part, but dare not go further; for much though I love little Hester--who has been to me as a sweet daughter--I must not risk my neck for her unnecessarily. But, if I mistake not, you are not unwilling to risk that?" "Ay, fifty necks would I risk for her sake if I had them," returned our middy with enthusiasm, for he was in that stage of love which glories in the acknowledgment of thraldom. Ben-Ahmed looked at him with interest, sighed, and sought solace in the pipe. After a few meditative puffs, he continued--