And he was silent, for his heart was full of sweet emotions, while Isabel sobbed on, and the grey light grew more and more perceptible. "And your father, Isabel?" at last asked her lover. "He never denied me anything; my happiness is his; and here he comes." Dom Maxara and the missionary at this moment entered the cabin. The former had only just heard of his daughter's wound, and as it had been exaggerated, his face, pale from loss of blood, showed great anxiety. Rising, the girl threw herself into her father's arms. "Oh, father, I am so happy!" she sobbed. The old man's grey hair mixed with the dark tresses of his daughter, as he bent over and soothed her, Wyzinski standing for a moment as if astonished at the scene. "Pardon me, Dom Maxara, you had better conduct the Dona Isabel to her cabin, and I will dress the wound. It is but slight, and I am a bit of a surgeon." "I thank you, Senhor," replied the old Portuguese, again assuming all the stateliness of manner which usually characterised him. "Come, Isabel." Isabel de Maxara turned, gave one look at her lover--a glance teeming with gratitude and love, even though the eyes were running over with tears, as she held out her hand. Hughes pressed it to his lips, and the next moment she was gone. "The Dona Isabel might have a cleaner lover," observed Wyzinski, after a long silence. It was the first time Captain Hughes had been conscious of his dirt-begrimed, ragged condition; would he have risked the confession he had made, had he been aware of it? Volume 2, Chapter V. THE DAY AFTER THE FIGHT. The day was well advanced, and the fierce rays of the African sun were pouring on the "Halcyon's" decks, as she lay at anchor in Saint Augustine's Bay. On shore the parrots could be heard chattering and screaming, the long cry of the peacock sounded from the woods, while on board every sign of the late bloody fight had been removed. The "Halcyon's" crew had been reduced by five deaths, and many of the men were hardly able to work from the effects of weakness. Still everything was going on well. The fore-topmast was in its place, the main-topgallant-mast replaced, and the standing and running rigging nearly finished. A new jib-boom had been rigged out, and the only spar wanting was the fore-topgallant-mast, which could be easily done without. The mate had weighed the spare anchor, and the brig now rode to a single one, and that was hove short. The crew were busy bending new sails, and no one who had looked into St Augustine's Bay that afternoon could have imagined that the vessel which lay so quietly riding on the calm waters, had just escaped from shipwreck, and her crew from murder. "I know where the rascals hail from," said Captain Weber to the missionary.