and the object of our existence. Do, my dear father, let it henceforth be our aim."

"Very fine!" growled the captain to himself. "The girl's cracked," he mentally exclaimed, "to talk about humanity to me after this fashion, when I buy and sell it, flesh and blood-bones, life, and all, with as little compunction as I would so many logs of timber." He looked earnestly at his daughter in the full, clear moonlight. The exquisite beauty of her face: the intellect which lighted up her fine expressive features; the sweet tones, half reproachful, half supplicatory, with which she uttered the last didactic paraphrase, reminded him strikingly of his departed wife, and brought vividly before him the portrait upon which his eyes that night had looked for the first time after a long interval of years. He was soothed as well as pained by the contemplation.

"But tell me, father," continued his daughter, agreeably surprised to find her 'humanity crotchets' had passed unrebuked; "tell me, dear father, something about this man. Come; indeed yon

must."

"My child," exclaimed the captain, "don't tease me now. My thoughts are otherwise occupied. I'll tell you hereafter more minutely. Some years ago he was my chief officer, but I couldn't keep him from the rum flask, so I discharged him. I thought the rascal was drowned or hanged. He lives, it seems, and I suspect is a smuggler, from his hover

ing about the shore at this unseasonable hour. If so, I'll have him nabbed, for it is abominable that he should both rob the king and annoy honest men like myself!"

This colloquy brought the little party to their own door, where for the present we must leave them.

CHAPTER VI.

Peace: thou know'st not gold's effect:
Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough;
For I will board her, though she chide as loud
As thunder, when the clouds in autumn crack.

Taming the Shrew.

He that has but impudence

To all things has a fair pretence;
And put among his wants but shame
To all the world may lay a claim.

BUTLER'S Hudibras.

A new cause for sorrow and anxiety awaited Matilda Carlos on her arrival at home. After due preparation she was made acquainted with the calamity which had befallen her brother. She was instantly at his bedside, to sympathise with his sufferings, and to pour, like a ministering angel, balm into his wounds, and hope into his spirit. Blind as a pup which has just come into the world, and nearly as senseless, the poor wretch was not able to appreciate the sweetness of a sister's love, the depth of her grief, the soothing influence of her presence. He presented a miserable spectacle. The Irishmen had left traces of their anger in the patches of stick

ing plaster which adhered to his face, in his black and swollen eyes, in the bandages round his head, in the livid spots which covered every inch of his frame. A more melancholy instance of the effects of mad-cap joking has rarely been witnessed in the world. To her scape-grace brother Matilda was always warmly attached, and to correct his follies by gentle persuasion was a duty prompted alike by affection and by womanly feeling. She inquired anxiously into the cause which produced such disastrous and all but tragical results. Her sister Elizabeth, who was also at the bedside of the suffering invalid, was imperfectly acquainted with the affair. Her informant was the porter at the Infirmary, who accompanied the young surgeon home, after he had received, first, the dressing of the heated Milesians, and next, that of the votaries of Esculapius. But he gave a very confused and garbled account of the causes which led to the melée, with which, however, the parties more immediately interested in the sufferer were obliged to remain content until the following morning. Captain Carlos heard of the calamity which had overtaken his hopeful heir with stolid indifference, and finding that his life was not in danger, dismissed the case with the placid consolation, "Serve him right!"

In the course of the ensuing forenoon a knock was heard at the door of the African captain, accompanied by an anxious interrogatory respecting the health of the junior Carlos. The inquirer was

ushered into the parlour. As he entered, a young lady was reclining on a sofa. She rose hastily at his approach.

"My dear Matilda, how pale and ill you look! Watching all night, I fear," said the young gentleman, as he pressed her extended hand affectionately. "I am distressed beyond measure to hear of the hard usage your brother received yesterday. No danger, I hope ?"

"Poor Tom is excessively ill and feverish-confined to his bed, and ordered to be kept quiet. Tell me, Fred, how it happened. You were in his company shortly before. How could you leave him to be so brutally treated? So unlike you, Fred!"

"It is useless to disguise the facts, Matilda. He sought the punishment he experienced. I did all I could to prevent it, by obviating the cause. The daughter of some poor Irish people died in the hospital. When they came to take away the remains, the body of a man-a black man, they said—was found in the coffin. In the greatest possible distress of mind, they brought the corpse back, and touchingly, imploringly, nay, eloquently, pleaded for possession of their child. The cries of the wretched mother still vibrate in my ear. Tom apparently assented to my earnest entreaty to restore it, pointed out to them a funeral which was passing to the churchyard as the body that had been substituted. They ran towards it—a fight ensued--Tom was determined to see "the fun"--I would not accompany