the main-chains, and thence gained the maindeck, in the same manner that he had before quitted it. Faithful to his post, he found Macpherson waiting, and having been absent for nearly an hour, he stole back to his cabin more dejected than he left it, to reflect on the beauty and sorrows of his mistress, as well as to devise some plan of defeating the machinations of his enemies, and warding off the evils of the morrow. Nor had Macpherson much less reason to rejoice at his safe return. The existence of both hung ou one thread: the grateful soldier was responsible with his life for the safety of the prisoner, who, guarded by a sentry throughout the day, was every night consigned to the corporal of the watch, in which capacity Macpherson now sat armed in the frigate's gun room. Up to this time the character of the latter had been a riddle, and his history a secret and a mystery to every one in the ship. The day before the frigate sailed from England he came on board, in Plymouth Sound, and volunteered for the marines. No vacancy existed in the ship's party, and the first lieutenant offered to place him in the afterguard. This he refused. Unwilling to press him, if it could be avoided, the weakest and most inefficient of the party was sent off to the hospital, and his berth given to Macpherson. The commandant of marines at the barracks ashore objected to this, saying that they ought to supply the place of the invalided man, and drill the recruit themselves. But to this the volunteer was as obstinately opposed as to the other arrangement. While the first lieutenant was debating what should be done, and wondering what could be the motives of Macpherson, the captain brought on board his daughter and her lady's maid, as passengers to the station for which his ship was ordered. The frigate sailed at daybreak the next morning, on a four months' voyage to one of our distant colonies, which had been thrown into a state of uproar and confusion by the appearance on their coast of what they termed "THE FLYING DUTCHMAN." As several piracies had been perpetrated at the same time, and even descents made upon the island for pillage, and persons so carried off from it, the government had ordered out Captain Livingstone's frigate to discover what was the roguery in operation. She sailed, and Macpherson seemed to have gained one step towards his strange object, whatever it might be; while the colonel of marines was left to fume at the contumacy of topsail-sheets. But if the surprise of the officers was excited by the Scottish stranger so pertinaciously choosing the marines for his service, the wonder of the jollies and crew in general was not less called forth by the manners of the man. Gloomy, mysterious, associating with no one; harsh, proud, and evidently acting a part far beneath some former station of life; his only pleasures reading every book he could lay hands on, and smoking by himself. At every turn peeped forth knowledge which none could learn how he acquired, while every attempt to scrutinise his former actions was met by impenetrable silence. Within a week after leaving the English Channel, he fell overboard one morning, in drawing water to wash decks; and Ramsay leaping after him-for he was unable to swim -seemed to have secured a faithful, however humble, friend for life. On this lieutenant, and the daughter of the captain, seemed to be fixed every kind of interest he took in a life, where otherwise he seemed to bear neither share nor part. On the reducing of a corporal for neglect of duty, Macpherson received the promotion; and the first deviation from the strict fulfilment of its trust was that this night displayed towards the preserver of his life. In many ships the corporals as well as sergeants of marines are emancipatad from keeping watch as sentries. The over-caution of Ramsay's enemies had left the usual course for additional security: how much of this they gained we have already seen. CHAPTER IV False Fortune's smiles I envy not the great, In the last chapter we left our hero safely returned to his cabin, that narrow prison in the gunroom, over which his faithful friend, and therefore we fear we must add his faithless sentry, again watched. As he laid himself upon his cot, his heart still throbbed hurriedly, not so much at the dangers yet before him, as at those from which he had escaped. For, in truth, it is not always even the most fortunate may leave unscathed the lion's den into which they have voluntarily thrust them selves. |