“They amount to nothing, without liberty,” coldly returned the other.

“And what is this liberty you ask?  I hope, young man, you would not so soon betray the confidence you have just received!  Our acquaintance is but short, and I may have been too hasty in my faith.”

“I must return to the land,” Wilder added, firmly, “if it be only to know that I am intrusted, and am not a prisoner.”

“There is generous sentiment, or deep villany, in all this,” resumed the Rover, after a minute of deep thought.  “I will believe the former.  Declare to me, that, while in the town of Newport, you will inform no soul of the true character of this ship.”

“I will swear it,” eagerly interrupted Wilder.

“On this cross,” rejoined the Rover, with a sarcastic laugh; “on this diamond-mounted cross!  No, sir,” he added, with a proud curl of the lip, as he cast the jewel contemptuously aside, “oaths are made for men who need laws to keep them to their promises; I need no more than the clear and unequivocal affirmation of a gentleman.”

“Then, plainly and unequivocally do I declare, that, while in Newport, I will discover the character of this ship to no one, without your wish, or order so to do.  Nay more”—­

“No more.  It is wise to be sparing of our pledges, and to say no more than the occasion requires.  The time may come when you might do good to yourself, without harming me, by being unfettered by a promise.  In an hour, you shall land; that time will be needed to make you acquainted with the terms of your enlistment, and to grace my rolls with your name.—­Roderick,” he added, again touching the gong, “you are wanted, boy.”

The same active lad, that had made his appearance at the first summons, ran up the steps from the cabin beneath, and announced his presence again by his voice.

“Roderick,” continued the Rover, “this is my future lieutenant, and, of course, your officer, and my friend.  Will you take refreshment, sir? there is little, that man needs, which Roderick cannot supply.”

“I thank you; I have need of none.”

“Then, have the goodness to follow the boy.  He will show you into the dining apartment beneath, and give you the written regulations.  In an hour, you will have digested the code, and by that time I shall be with you.  Throw the light more upon the ladder, boy; you can descend without a ladder though, it would seem, or I should not, at this moment, have the pleasure of your company.”

The intelligent smile of the Rover was unanswered by any corresponding evidence from the subject of his joke, that he found satisfaction in the remembrance of the awkward situation in which he had been left in the tower.  The former caught the displeased expression of the other’s countenance, as he gravely prepared to follow the boy, who already stood in the hatchway with a light.  Advancing a step with the grace and tones of sensitive breeding, he said quickly,—­