“Can I do aught else to quiet your apprehensions?” the young man inquired, though he studiously avoided her eye, as he turned to put the question. “I know your strength of mind, and that you have a resolution which exceeds the courage of your sex; else I would not venture so freely to point out the danger which may beset one, even here, without a self-command and discretion that shall restrain all sudden impulses of fear.” “Notwithstanding your generous interpretation of my character, Ludlow, I am but woman after all.” “I did not mistake you for an amazon,” returned the young man smiling, perceiving that she checked her words by a sudden effort. “All I expect from you is the triumph of reason over female terror. I shall not conceal that the odds—perhaps I may say that the chances, are against us; and yet the enemy must pay for my ship, ere he has her! She will be none the worse defended, Alida, from the consciousness that thy liberty and comfort depend in some measure on our exertions.—Would you say more?” La belle Barbérie struggled with herself, and she became calm, at least in exterior. “There has been a singular misconception between us, and yet is this no moment for explanations! Ludlow, I would not have you part with me, at such a time as this, with that cold and reproachful eye!” She paused. When the young man ventured to raise his look, he saw the beautiful girl standing with a hand extended towards him, as if offering a pledge of amity; while the crimson on her cheek, and her yielding but half-averted eye, spoke with the eloquence of maiden modesty. Seizing the hand, he answered, hastily— “Time was, when this action would have made me happy—” The young man paused, for his gaze had unconsciously become riveted on the rings of the hand he held. Alida understood the look, and, drawing one of the jewels, she offered it with a smile that was as attractive as her beauty. “One of these may be spared,” she said. “Take it, Ludlow; and when thy present duty shall be performed, return it, as a gage that I have promised thee that no explanation which you may have a right to ask shall be withheld.” The young man took the ring, and forced it on the smallest of his fingers, in a mechanical manner, and with a bewildered look, that seemed to inquire if some one of those which remained was not the token of a plighted faith. It is probable that he might have continued the discourse, had not a gun been fired from the enemy. It recalled him to the more serious business of the hour. Already more than half disposed to believe all he could wish, he raised the fair hand, which had just bestowed the boon, to his lips, and rushed upon deck. “The Monsieur is beginning to bluster;” said Trysail, who had witnessed the descent of his commander, at that moment and on such an errand, with great dissatisfaction. “Although his shot fell short, it is too much to let a Frenchman have the credit of first word.”