to do, and that the greatest thing of all. He said that Barnaby

and the young lady had not been fetched away from the Belle Helen
as they were by any mere chance of accident, but that 'twas all a

plan laid by a head wiser than his, and carried out by one whom
he must obey in all things. He said that he hoped that both

Barnaby and the young lady would perform willingly" target="_blank" title="ad.情愿地，乐意地">willingly what they
would be now called upon to do, but that whether they did it

willingly" target="_blank" title="ad.情愿地，乐意地">willingly or no, they must, for that those were the orders of one
who was not to be disobeyed.

You may guess how our hero held his breath at all this; but
whatever might have been his expectations, the very wildest of

them all did not reach to that which was demanded of him. "My
orders are these," said the other, continuing: "I am to take you

and the young lady ashore, and to see that you are married before
I quit you; and to that end a very good, decent, honest minister

who lives ashore yonder in the village was chosen and hath been
spoken to and is now, no doubt, waiting for you to come. Such are

my orders, and this is the last thing I am set to do; so now I
will leave you alone together for five minutes to talk it over,

but be quick about it, for whether willing or not, this thing
must be done."

Thereupon he went away, as he had promised, leaving those two
alone together, Barnaby like one turned into stone, and the young

lady, her face turned away, flaming as red as fire in the fading
light.

Nor can I tell what Barnaby said to her, nor what words he used,
but only, all in a tumult, with neither beginning nor end he told

her that God knew he loved her, and that with all his heart and
soul, and that there was nothing in all the world for him but

her; but, nevertheless, if she would not have it as had been
ordered, and if she were not willing to marry him as she was

bidden to do, he would rather die than lend himself to forcing
her to do such a thing against her will. Nevertheless, he told

her she must speak up and tell him yes or no, and that God knew
he would give all the world if she would say "yes."

All this and more he said in such a tumult of words that there
was no order in their speaking, and she sitting there, her bosom

rising and falling as though her breath stifled her. Nor may I
tell what she replied to him, only this, that she said she would

marry him. At this he took her into his arms and set his lips to
hers, his heart all melting away in his bosom.

So presently came the captain back into the saloon again, to find
Barnaby sitting there holding her hand, she with her face turned

away, and his heart beating like a trip hammer, and so saw that
all was settled as he would have it. Wherewith he wished them

both joy, and gave Barnaby his hand.
The yawlboat belonging to the brigantine was ready and waiting

alongside when they came upon deck, and immediately they
descended to it and took their seats. So they landed, and in a

little while were walking up the village street in the darkness,
she clinging to his arm as though she would swoon, and the

captain of the brigantine and two other men from aboard following
after them. And so to the minister's house, finding him waiting

for them, smoking his pipe in the warm evening, and walking up
and down in front of his own door. He immediately conducted them

into the house, where, his wife having fetched a candle, and two
others of the village folk being present, the good man having

asked several questions as to their names and their age and where
they were from, the ceremony was performed, and the certificate

duly signed by those present-- excepting the men who had come
ashore from the brigantine, and who refused to set their hands to

any paper.
The same sailboat that had taken the captain up to the town in

the afternoon was waiting for them at the landing place, whence,
the captain, having wished them Godspeed, and having shaken

Barnaby very heartily by the hand, they pushed off, and, coming
about, ran away with the slant of the wind, dropping the shore

and those strange beings alike behind them into the night.
As they sped away through the darkness they could hear the

creaking of the sails being hoisted aboard of the brigantine, and
so knew that she was about to put to sea once more. Nor did

Barnaby True ever set eyes upon those beings again, nor did
anyone else that I ever heard tell of.

It was nigh midnight when they made Mr. Hartright's wharf at the
foot of Wall Street, and so the streets were all dark and silent

and deserted as they walked up to Barnaby's home.
You may conceive of the wonder and amazement of Barnaby's dear

stepfather when, clad in a dressing gown and carrying a lighted
candle in his hand, he unlocked and unbarred the door, and so saw

who it was had aroused him at such an hour of the night, and the
young and beautiful lady whom Barnaby had fetched with him.

The first thought of the good man was that the Belle Helen had
come into port; nor did Barnaby undeceive him as he led the way

into the house, but waited until they were all safe and sound in
privily together before he should unfold his strange and

wonderful story.
"This was left for you by two foreign sailors this afternoon,

Barnaby," the good old man said, as he led the way through the
hall, holding up the candle at the same time, so that Barnaby

might see an object that stood against the wainscoting by the
door of the dining room.

Nor could Barnaby refrain from crying out with amazement when he
saw that it was one of the two chests of treasure that Sir John

Malyoe had fetched from Jamaica, and which the pirates had taken
from the Belle Helen. As for Mr. Hartright, he guessed no more

what was in it than the man in the moon.
The next day but one brought the Belle Helen herself into port,

with the terrible news not only of having been attacked at night
by pirates, but also that Sir John Malyoe was dead. For whether

it was the sudden shock of the sight of his old captain's
face--whom he himself had murdered and thought dead and

buried--flashing so out against the darkness, or whether it was
the strain of passion that overset his brains, certain it is that

when the pirates left the Belle Helen, carrying with them the
young lady and Barnaby and the traveling trunks, those left

aboard the Belle Helen found Sir John Malyoe lying in a fit upon
the floor, frothing at the mouth and black in the face, as though

he had been choked, and so took him away to his berth, where, the
next morning about ten o'clock, he died, without once having

opened his eyes or spoken a single word.
As for the villain manservant, no one ever saw him afterward;

though whether he jumped overboard, or whether the pirates who so
attacked the ship had carried him away bodily, who shall say?

Mr. Hartright, after he had heard Barnaby's story, had been very
uncertain as to the ownership of the chest of treasure that had

been left by those men for Barnaby, but the news of the death of
Sir John Malyoe made the matter very easy for him to decide. For

surely if that treasure did not belong to Barnaby, there could be
no doubt that it must belong to his wife, she being Sir John

Malyoe's legal heir. And so it was that that great fortune (in
actual computation amounting to upward of sixty- three thousand

pounds) came to Barnaby True, the grandson of that famous pirate,
William Brand; the English estate in Devonshire, in default of

male issue of Sir John Malyoe, descended to Captain Malyoe, whom
the young lady was to have married.

As for the other case of treasure, it was never heard of again,
nor could Barnaby ever guess whether it was divided as booty