at their head, had a project on hand for murdering their officers, and converting the ship into a whaling vessel.  And even Salve, in moments of bitterness and indignation at the tyranny to which he was subjected by these men, whose lives were at the mercy of the crew, would sometimes entertain the thought of joining with the mutineers, who were restrained from carrying out their designs mainly by the fear which he had inspired, and by the refusal of his sanction.  Many a desperate struggle with himself he went through when one of his tyrants passed him on deck in the dark, and the temptation to stick a knife into his back would rise strong within him, and almost master him.  The other’s life hung upon a hair, and Salve knew it; but that hair was stronger than he thought.  Elizabeth’s face, and the still unexhausted might of early impressions, made him always shrink from the thought of having a murder on his conscience, and to that depth he never fell, deteriorated though his character gradually became, from daily association with everything that was vile, to that degree that he lost all power of believing in the existence of good amongst his fellow-creatures, or in a higher Power.

We need follow no further this dark period of his life.  After a year and a half on board the Stars and Stripes, and many a wild scene of turbulence and riot, he brought his connection with her to a close at last at New Orleans, where the accumulation of his wages was handed over to him.

The life on board the other vessels in which he afterwards served did not differ greatly from that which he had left; but he had become accustomed to it, and his sensibilities were blunted by long habit.  It was not until some four years had thus passed that he again began to feel a longing for Europe—­he would not acknowledge to himself that it was Norway exactly that he wanted to see again;—­and after looking out then for some time for a suitable ship for the home voyage, he found himself at last with his Brazilian friend on board a large barque that was homeward bound from Curacoa, with tobacco and rum, for Rotterdam and Nieuwediep.

Federigo had been his inseparable companion through all the vicissitudes of his southern life; the secret of his faithful attachment, as Salve suspected, being that the latter had saved money, which he had turned into gold pieces and kept in a belt round his waist.  He had never, like Federigo, sought occasions to squander his pay on land in gambling or in other diversions.  He hated women; and in the taverns which were frequented by sailors he was looked upon as a dangerous customer, to whom it was prudent to give as wide a berth as possible.  Federigo, he fancied, looked upon him as his reserve cash-box; and when on one occasion, after they came into port, the Brazilian proposed that they should desert and put their money into some mines that were very favourably reported of just then, and share the profits, Salve remarked with perfect composure