Our hero promised all he could promise, but he recollected that, after all, he was but a midshipman, and one without rank or station, and entirely depending on his own exertions. However, he tried to keep up the poor girl’s spirits, and, by chatting to her, keep her from fretting. “How long, Mabel,” questioned young Thornton, “were you confined in that dismal house I found you in?” “Oh, nearly—let me see—yes, fully a month; sometimes in the dismal vaults. When good Jean Plessis was out getting food we always went below, and he closed the trap down over us. Oh, how damp and chill it was; but we were well wrapped up in blankets, and he never stayed away more than an hour or two at most.” “I think I heard your mamma say she escaped from Lyons, and that you suffered much there?” “Oh, you can’t think what we endured! You must know we were living in a very grand château, belonging to mamma’s husband, the Duke de Coulancourt, who, alas! was beheaded in Paris, for fighting for the poor king. Oh, my poor mamma, when Jean Plessis came from Paris with the frightful intelligence, lost her senses. My brother—dear brother Julian—was furious and distracted. He was only fifteen; he wanted to go to Paris, but Jean Plessis said we must fly or we should perish, for the order was to arrest all the Duke’s family. But, alas! mamma was not able to fly; we moved into Lyons, thinking to be safer there, as they were all Royalists. I am not able to tell you all mamma suffered whilst there; she will tell you herself, another time. I am now so frightened and anxious about her that I can scarcely recollect anything.” Thus the remainder of the day passed, till Lieutenant Cooke’s entertainers, officers and all, quitted the ship, leaving the English officer to make his daring passage through the hostile fleet. “Now, William, tell me all about your adventure,” said Lieutenant Cooke to his young companion—little Mabel being fast asleep in a berth, worn out by fatigue and great anxiety, with the casket placed at her feet. William Thornton made his superior officer fully acquainted with all that had occurred, and explained the manner in which they were to take the Duchesse de Coulancourt on board. “By Jupiter!” returned Lieutenant Cooke, looking surprised, and not a little puzzled, “you are a young hero, William, for an adventure with Royalist duchesses and Republican ruffians, and all of a sudden to become the protector of a young girl and a valuable casket. Faith! it’s a very curious affair. What shall we do if circumstances prevent us pulling along the beach where we may expect to find this unfortunate lady? We may be suspected by some of the nearest men-of-war; and, if so, the whole bay along that beach is exposed to their fire. Supposing we fail in rescuing the mother, what in the name of fate is to be done with this poor little child? A girl, too, on board a ship with above a thousand sea bears in her!—nice nurses for a delicate child, eh?”