“Even _you_!” exclaimed Mrs Wyllys, in a surprise that for the moment overcame her self-restraint. But the thought in which the boy was lost appeared to prevent his observing the sudden change in her manner. Indeed, so little did he know what was passing, that the governess touched the hand of Gertrude, and silently pointed out the insensible figure of the lad, without the slightest apprehension that the movement would be observed. “What think you, Roderick,” continued his interrogator “would he refuse to answer _us_ also?” The boy started; and, as consciousness shot into his glance, it fell upon the soft and speaking countenance of Gertrude. “Though her beauty be so rare,” he answered with vehemence, “let her not prize it too highly. Woman cannot tame his temper!” “Is he then so hard of heart? Think you that a question from this fair one would be denied?” “Hear me, Lady,” he said, with an earnestness that was no less remarkable than the plaintive softness of the tones in which he spoke; “I have seen more, in the last two crowded years of my life, than many youths would witness between childhood and the age of man. This is no place for innocence and beauty. Oh! quit the ship, if you leave it as you came, without a deck to lay your head under!” “It may be too late to follow such advice,” Mrs Wyllys gravely replied, glancing her eye at the silent Gertrude as she spoke. “But tell me more of this extraordinary vessel. Roderick, you were not born to fill the station in which I find you?” The boy shook his head, but remained with downcast eyes, apparently not disposed to answer further on such a subject. “How is it that I find the ‘Dolphin’ bearing different hues to-day from what she did yesterday? and why is it that neither then, nor now, does she resemble in her paint, the slaver of Newport harbour?” “And why is it,” returned the boy, with a smile in which melancholy struggled powerfully with bitterness “that none can look into the secret heart of him who makes those changes at will? If all remained the same, but the paint of the ship, one might still be happy in her!” “Then, Roderick, you are not happy: Shall I intercede with Captain Heidegger for your discharge?” “I could never wish to serve another.” “How! Do you complain, and yet embrace your fetters?” “I complain not.” The governess eyed him closely; and, after a moment’s pause, she continued,— “Is it usual to see such riotous conduct among the crew as we have this day witnessed?” “It is not. You have little to fear from the people; he who brought them under knows how to keep them down.” “They are enlisted by order of the King?” “The King! Yes, he is surely a King who has no equal.” “But they dared to threaten the life of Mr Wilder. Is a seaman, in a King’s ship, usually so bold?” The boy glanced a look at Mrs Wyllys; as if he would say, he understood her affected ignorance of the character of the vessel, but again he chose to continue silent.