“Pass the slaver’s lee-beam, sir,” said Wilder to him, with a gesture of authority; and then the young Captain went himself to lean on the weather-rail, like every other idler on board, to examine the object they were so fast approaching.  As the “Caroline” came boldly up, seeming to bear the breeze before her, the sighing of the wind, as it murmured through the rigging of the stranger, was the only sound that issued from her.  Not a single human face, not even a secret and curious eye, was any where to be seen.  The passage was of course rapid, and, as the two vessels, for an instant, lay with heads and sterns nearly equal, Wilder thought it was to be made without the slightest notice from the imaginary slaver.  But he was mistaken.  A light, active form, in the undress attire of a naval officer, sprang upon the taffrail, and waved a sea-cap in salute.  The instant the fair hair was blowing about the countenance of this individual, Wilder recognized the quick, keen eye and features of the Rover.

“Think you the wind will hold here, sir?” shouted the latter, at the top of his voice.

“It has come in fresh enough to be steady,” was the answer.

“A wise mariner would get all his easting in time to me, there is a smack of West-Indies about it.”

“You believe we shall have it more at south?”

“I do:  But a taught bow-line, for the night, will carry you clear.”

By this time the “Caroline” had swept by, and she was now luffing, across the slaver’s bows, into her course again.  The figure on the taffrail waved high the sea-cap in adieu, and disappeared.

“Is it possible that such a man can traffic in human beings!” exclaimed Gertrude, when the sounds of both voices had ceased.

Receiving no reply, she turned quickly, to regard her companion.  The governess was standing like a being entranced, with her eyes looking on vacancy for they had not changed their direction since the motion of the vessel had carried her beyond the countenance of the stranger.  As Gertrude took her hand, and repeated the question, the recollection of Mrs Wyllys returned.  Passing her own hand over her brow, with a bewildered air, she forced a smile as she said,—­

“The meeting of vessels, or the renewal of any maritime experience, never fails to revive my earliest recollections, love.  But surely that was an extraordinary being, who has at length shown himself in the slaver!”

“For a slaver, most extraordinary!”

Wyllys leaned her head on her hand for an instant, and then turned to seek the person of Wilder.  The young mariner was standing near, studying the expression of her countenance, with an interest scarcely less remarkable than her own air of thought.

“Tell me, young man, is yonder individual the Commander of the slaver?”

“He is.”

“You know him?”

“We have met.”

“And he is called——­”