Nor can I tell what Barnaby said to her, nor what words or arguments he used, for so great was the distraction of his mind and the tumult of his emotions that he presently discovered that he was repeating to her over and over again that God knew he loved her, and that with all his heart and soul, and that there was nothing in all the world for him but her.  After which, containing himself sufficiently to continue his address, he told her that if she would not have it as the man had said, and if she were not willing to marry him as she was bidden to do, he would rather die a thousand, aye, ten thousand, deaths than lend himself to forcing her to do such a thing as this.  Nevertheless, he told her she must speak up and tell him yes or no, and that God knew he would give all the world if she would say “yes.”

All this and much more he said in such a tumult that he was hardly aware of what he was speaking, and she sitting there, as though her breath stifled her.  Nor did he know what she replied to him, only that she would marry him.  Therewith he took her into his arms and for the first time set his lips to hers, in such a transport of ecstasy that everything seemed to his sight as though he were about to swoon.

So when the Captain returned to the saloon he found Barnaby sitting there holding her hand, she with her face turned away, and he so full of joy that the promise of heaven could not have made him happier.

The yawl-boat belonging to the brigantine was ready and waiting alongside when they came upon deck, and immediately they descended to it and took their seats.  Reaching the shore, they landed, and walked up the village street in the twilight, she clinging to our hero’s arm as though she would faint away.  The Captain of the brigantine and two other men aboard accompanied them to the minister’s house, where they found the good man waiting for them, smoking his pipe in the warm evening, and walking up and down in front of his own door.  He immediately conducted them into the house, where, his wife having fetched a candle, and two others from the village being present, the good, pious man having asked several questions as to their names and their age and where they were from, and having added his blessing, the ceremony was performed, and the certificate duly signed by those present from the village—­the men who had come ashore from the brigantine alone refusing to set their hands to any paper.

The same sail-boat that had taken the Captain up to the town was waiting for Barnaby and the young lady as they came down to the landing-place.  There the Captain of the brigantine having wished them godspeed, and having shaken Barnaby very heartily by the hand, he helped to push off the boat, which with the slant of the wind presently sailed swiftly away, dropping the shore and those strange beings, and the brigantine in which they sailed, alike behind them into the night.

They could hear through the darkness the creaking of the sails being hoisted aboard of the pirate vessel; nor did Barnaby True ever set eyes upon it or the crew again, nor, so far as the writer is informed, did anybody else.