Poor Nina listened in a tumult of joy; her passionate heart would admit no doubting suggestion of her reason. She was too happy to bear even the presence of Fanchette, and rewarding her for her good news by the present of a beautiful shawl which she wore at the moment, pushed the delighted little negress out of the room, and threw herself on her couch, where she repeated a hundred times that _he_ had been to her orange–grove, where they had last parted, had named her name with tenderness, had pressed some token to his lips—what could that be? It might be a flower, a book, any thing—it mattered not—so long as she only knew he loved her! Having long wept with impassioned joy, she determined to show herself worthy of his love; and the schemes which she formed, and resolved to carry into effect, evinced the wild force and energy of her romantic character. Among her father’s slaves was one who, being a steady and skilful seaman, had the charge of a schooner (originally an American prize), which lay in the harbour, and which the Commodore sometimes used as a pleasure–yacht, or for short trips to other parts of the island: this man (whose name was Jacques) was not only a great favourite with the young lady, but was also smitten with the black eyes and plump charms of M’amselle Fanchette, who thus exercised over him a sway little short of absolute. Nina having held a conference with her abigail, sent for Jacques, who was also admitted to a confidential consultation, the result of which, after–occurrences will explain to the reader. When this was over, she acquired, rather than assumed, a sudden composure and cheerfulness: the delights of a plot seemed at once to restore her to health; and on the following day she sent to request that Ethelston would come to see her in her boudoir, where she received him with a calmness and self–possession for which he was altogether unprepared. “Mr. Ethelston,” said she, as soon as he was seated, “I believe you still desire to escape from your prison, and that you are devising various plans for effecting that object; you will never succeed unless you call me into your counsel.” Ethelston, though extremely surprised at the composure of her manner and language, replied with a smile, “M’amselle Nina, I will not deny that you have rightly guessed my thoughts; but as your father is my jailor, I did not dare to ask your counsel in this matter.” “Well, Mr. Mentor,” said the wayward girl, “how does your wisdom propose to act without my counsel?” “I confess I am somewhat at a loss,” said Ethelston, good–humouredly; “I must go either through the air or the water; and the latter, being my proper element, is the path which I would rather attempt.” “And what should you think of me, if I were to play the traitoress, and aid you in eluding the vigilance of my father, and afford the means of escape to so formidable an enemy?”