“Last! what should help its lasting?  Miss Rose is so good, and so handsome—­and she’s a fortin’, too; and the mate so nice a young man.  Think of the likes of them, Jack, wantin’ the blessed gift of wather, and all within one day and two nights.  Sure it’s Providence that takes care of, and not we ourselves!  Kings on their thrones is n’t as happy as them at this moment.”

“Men’s willians!” growled Jack; “and more fools women for trustin’ ’em.”

“Not sich a nice young man as our mate, Jacky; no, not he.  Now the mate of the ship I came from Liverpool in, this time ten years agone, he was a villain.  He grudged us our potaties, and our own bread; and he grudged us every dhrap of swate wather that went into our mouths.  Call him a villain, if you will, Jack; but niver call the likes of Mr. Mulford by so hard a name.”

“I wish him well, and nothing else; and for that very reason must put a stop to his looking so fondly into that young woman’s face.  Time wont stand still, Biddy, to suit the wishes of lovers; and Stephen Spike is a man not to be trifled with.  Halloo, there, maty!  It’s high time to think of getting under way.”

At this summons both Harry and Rose started, becoming aware of the precious moments they were losing.  Carrying a large portion of the turtle, the former moved toward the craft, in which all were seated in less than three minutes, with the sail loose, and the boat in motion.  For a few moments the mate was so much occupied with Rose, that he did not advert to the course; but one of his experience could not long be misled on such a point, and he turned suddenly to Tier, who was steering, to remonstrate.

“How’s this, Jack!” cried Mulford; “you’ve got the boat’s head the wrong way.”

“Not I, sir.  She’s heading for the brig as straight as she can go.  This wind favours us on both legs; and it’s lucky it does, for’t will be hard on upon daylight afore we are alongside of her.  You’ll want half an hour of dark, at the very least, to get a good start of the Swash, in case she makes sail a’ter you.”

“Straight for the brig!—­what have we to do with the brig?  Our course is for Key West, unless it might be better to run down before the wind to the Dry Tortugas again, and look for the sloop-of-war.  Duty, and perhaps my own safety, tells me to let Captain Mull know what Spike is about with the Swash; and I shall not hesitate a moment about doing it, after all that has passed.  Give me the helm, Jack, and let us ware short round on our heel.”

“Never, master maty—­never.  I must go back to the brig.  Miss Rose, there, knows that my business is with Stephen Spike, and with him only.”

“And I must return to my aunt, Harry,” put in Rose, herself.  “It would never do for me to desert my aunt, you know.”

“And I have been taken from that rock, to be given up to the tender mercies of Spike again?”

This was said rather in surprise, than in a complaining way; and it at once induced Rose to tell the young man the whole of their project.