A long pause ensued, during which the clank of the chain pumps, the swish of the water, the loud voices on deck, and the stertorous breathing of the dying noble, mixed with the passionate sobs of the sorrow-stricken daughter. "Isabel," said Dom Maxara, at last, "I would give you a protector. Enrico, I would give you my daughter, ere I leave you." "Oh, dear father, think of yourself, think not of me," sobbed the heart-broken Isabel. "I am thinking of myself. Enrico, tell your friend the missionary; ask him to come here." Wyzinski was soon found; and there, in the small cabin, the marriage service was read, Captain Weber, whose eyes were wet with tears, being present. Isabel's voice could hardly be heard through her sobs, as she murmured the responses of the English Church. Wyzinski closed the book, and the wife's head rested on her husband's shoulder. They knelt by the bedside, the missionary praying fervently and long. All had faced death together more than once; but here it was gradually approaching before their eyes, slowly but surely, and on that account the more terrible. The captain had left, his presence being urgently required on deck, and the low, earnest tones of the missionary sounded impressively in the cabin of the dismantled brig. By the bedside the newly-married couple kneeled. In Isabel's bosom a deep and unswerving affection had long since taken root; she had read, and read truly, too, the heart of her lover; had seen, from the first, his affection for her, and had understood the plain blunt straightforward language in which the expression of it had been couched. For her own future she entertained no doubt, now that the storm was dying away, and land in sight. "See, Enrico, he revives," she murmured. "It is the effect of the stimulant," replied her husband. A violent spasm seemed to shake the dying noble's whole frame from head to foot. Extending his hands, he laid them on the heads of the two kneeling beside him; his eyes were lifted to Heaven, his lips moved, and he made an effort to speak. It was useless, for no sound issued from the white contracted lips. Again the convulsion fit passed over his frame, the head fell back on the pillow, and the arms dropped heavily. The rush of the water, and the heavy clank of the chain pumps, mixed with the sobs of the orphan and the low earnest prayer of the missionary alone broke the silence of the death chamber.