On her part, it would be difficult for us to define the exact state of feelings which actuated the beautiful girl whom we first introduced to the reader in India.  She felt an interest in the commander of the slaver that she was afraid to acknowledge not only to her mother, but indeed to herself.  The tones of his voice came over her heart like the memory of music that we have heard at some distant time, and in some forgotten place; his eyes betrayed to her the love he dared not speak, and when she did pause to consider their relation towards each other, she half shuddered, and said to herself, “Would to heaved this man was a poor mechanic, anything but a slaver!  How can I give my confidence to him, and yet how can I withhold it, for he wins from me my very thoughts!”

One evening just after sunset, Miss Huntington and her mother had been tarrying on the quarter deck for a long while, watching the conversation going on between the ship and the shore by means of flags, and observing that the “Sea Witch” had run in closer than usual, the mother asked: 

“Shall we not land before long, Captain Ratlin?  We have been in the vicinity of the shore so long, that I begin to feel quite impatient.”

“To-night, madam, we shall be on shore.  I cannot offer you very good quarters at first, but you shall find conveyance to Sierra Leone shortly, from whence you can sail for England.”

“We have to thank you for much kindness, sir,” she continued, gratefully.

“Nay, madam, necessity and duty to my owners has rendered it imperative for me to approach the coast cautiously, and hence a delay I could not avoid.”

“You are too honest and manly a spirit, sir,” said the mother, frankly, “to be engaged in such a trade.  Ah, sir, why not turn your talents to a more fitting purpose?  The field of commerce is extensive, and such as you need not look for command.”

“Madam, your daughter has already caused me to behold my position in a very different light from what I did when I cleared my ship from the last port.”

“I rejoice, Captain Ratlin, to hear you say so,” was the frank rejoinder of the mother, as she extended her hand to him, and which he pressed respectfully.

“She is thus frank and open with me,” reasoned the young commander to himself, “because she has no reason for restraint; but were I to tell her that I loved her child, that she was already so dear to me that I would relinquish all things for her, that face, so friendly in its expression now, would be suffused with disdain and scorn.  No, no! such a fate is not in store for me; a sailor should know but one mistress, and she should be his ship.  But the heart is a stubborn thing.  I would not have believed that ouch a change could come over me.”

“Stand by to let go the starboard bow anchor,” he shouted, as the vessel gradually crept shoreward with the oncoming of night, and, assumed the position in which he desired to place her.