“It may be too late to follow such advice,” Mrs Wyllys gravely replied, glancing her eye at the silent Gertrude as she spoke.  “But tell me more of this extraordinary vessel.  Roderick, you were not born to fill the station in which I find you?”

The boy shook his head, but remained with downcast eyes, apparently not disposed to answer further on such a subject.

“How is it that I find the ‘Dolphin’ bearing different hues to-day from what she did yesterday? and why is it that neither then, nor now, does she resemble in her paint, the slaver of Newport harbour?”

“And why is it,” returned the boy, with a smile in which melancholy struggled powerfully with bitterness “that none can look into the secret heart of him who makes those changes at will?  If all remained the same, but the paint of the ship, one might still be happy in her!”

“Then, Roderick, you are not happy:  Shall I intercede with Captain Heidegger for your discharge?”

“I could never wish to serve another.”

“How!  Do you complain, and yet embrace your fetters?”

“I complain not.”

The governess eyed him closely; and, after a moment’s pause, she continued,—­

“Is it usual to see such riotous conduct among the crew as we have this day witnessed?”

“It is not.  You have little to fear from the people; he who brought them under knows how to keep them down.”

“They are enlisted by order of the King?”

“The King!  Yes, he is surely a King who has no equal.”

“But they dared to threaten the life of Mr Wilder.  Is a seaman, in a King’s ship, usually so bold?”

The boy glanced a look at Mrs Wyllys; as if he would say, he understood her affected ignorance of the character of the vessel, but again he chose to continue silent.

“Think you, Roderick,” continued the governess, who no longer deemed it necessary to pursue her covert inquiries on that particular subject; “think you, Roderick, that the Rov—­that is, that Captain Heidegger will suffer us to land at the first port which offers?”

“Many have been passed since you reached the ship.”

“Ay, many that are inconvenient; but, when one shall be gained where his pursuits will allow his ship to enter?”

“Such places are not common.”

“But, should it occur, do you not think he will permit us to land?  We have gold to pay him for his trouble.”

“He cares not for gold.  I never ask him for it; that he does not fill my hand.”

“You must be happy, then.  Plenty of gold will compensate for a cold look at times.”

“Never!” returned the boy, with quickness and energy.  “Had I the ship filled with the dross, I would give it all to bring a look of kindness into his eye.”