“I would have said, of his class; but a mariner like him we speak of forms the head of his own order.”

“We will call him, then, by his popular name, Mr Wilder—­a rover.  But, answer me, is it not remarkable that so aged and experienced a seaman should come to this little frequented sea in quest of a ship whose pursuits should call her into more bustling scenes?”

“He may have traced her through the narrow passages of the islands, and followed on the course she has last been seen steering.”

“He may indeed,” returned the Rover, musing intently “Your thorough mariner knows how to calculate the chances of winds and currents, as the bird finds its way in air.  Still a description of the ship should be needed for a clue.”

The eyes of Wilder, not withstanding every effort to the contrary, sunk before the piercing gaze they encountered, as he answered,—­

“Perhaps he is not without that knowledge, too.”

“Perhaps not.  Indeed, he gave me reason to believe he has an agent in the secrets of his enemy.  Nay, he expressly avowed the same, and acknowledged that his prospects of success depended on the skill and information of that individual, who no doubt has his private means of communicating what he learns of the movements of those with whom he serves.”

“Did he name him?”

“He did.”

“It was?”——­

“Henry—­Ark, alias Wilder.”

“It is vain to attempt denial,” said our adventurer rising, with an air of pride that he intended should conceal the uneasy sensation that in truth beset him; “I find you know me.”

“For a false traitor, sir.”

“Captain Heidegger, you are safe, here, in using these reproachful terms.”

The Rover struggled, and struggled successfully, to keep down the risings of his temper; but the effort lent to his countenance gleamings of fierce and bitter scorn.

“You will communicate that fact also to your superiors,” he said, with taunting irony.  “The monster of the seas, he who plunders defenceless fishermen ravages unprotected coasts, and eludes the flag of King George, as other serpents steal into their caves at the footstep of man, is safe in speaking his mind, backed by a hundred and fifty freebooters, and in the security of his own cabin.  Perhaps he knows too, that he is breathing in the atmosphere of peaceful and peace-making woman.”

But the first surprise of the subject of his scorn had passed, and he was neither to be goaded into retort nor terrified into entreaties.  Folding his arms with calmness, Wilder simply replied,—­

“I have incurred this risk, in order to drive a scourge from the ocean, which had baffled all other attempts at its extermination.  I knew the hazard, and shall not shrink from its penalty.”