University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
THE TWO MAIDENS.

The readers of the nautical romance entitled `Freemantle, or the
Privateersman,' to which the present story is a sequel, will remember
that the narrative closed with the landing of Freemantle and the passengers
of the Indiaman at the villa of Colonel Hood, while the Indiaman
stood on towards the port of Boston. The disabled and defeated
corvette at the same time, it will be remembered, was making the best
of her way towards Halifax, closely followed off soundings by the Privateer,
which then had orders to put back into port.

The meeting between Colonel Hood and his old and long-absent
friend, Mr. Forrest, the India-merchant, was warm and ardent as became
the re-union of such tried friends. The meeting of the two maidens
for the first time was attended with a little natural embarrassment;
but the sincerity and frank hospitality of Mary Hood in five minutes
quite won the heart of the handsome Indian belle, and a union like that
of sisterly hearts was at once established between them. Being both
nearly of an age, and from the long friendship existing between their
parents, they had been, as it were, well known to one another from
childhood. They had sent messages of love one to the other, in their
father's letters far over the sea; and presents had been interchanged.
Yet till now they had never met; and the meeting was to both of the
deepest interest.

While the two old gentlemen sat together upon the portico after the
first interchange of courtesies and affections had passed, talking of the
past, as old friends will when they meet after a long absence, the blue-eyed
Mary Hood, and her new dark-eyed friend were standing by a
window gazing into each other's eyes and studying fondly the features
which each had a hundred times dreamed of.

`I was sure your eyes were hazel, dear Clara,' said Mary smiling into
them through her own.

`I knew yours were blue, and that your hair was a soft brown, and
that your face was very fair, but I did not expect to find you so lovely
as you are,' said Clara admiring, the gentle beauty of the blooming
northern maiden.

`How did you know so much, Clara?' said Mary blushing at this deserved
compliment to her loveliness; `If you are such a flatterer I shall
begin! Your glorious beauty I did not even dream of, noble Clara!—
Such magnificent eyes, and your complexion so soft, like the most delicate
olive, and with such a bright ruby glow to your lips!'

`Your figure too, so superb and yet so gracefully child-like in all its
motions. And —'

`You shall be silent, fair prattler,' cried the East Indian maiden, her
rich cheek coloring high with these glowing descriptions of her person;
`you asked me how I knew you had blue eyes and fair hair and then
did not wait for me to reply.'

`How then did you hear, for I am sure father did not write so much,
for if he was asked he would scarcely be able to tell whether my eyes
were blue or brown; so long as he knows they beam affection upon him
he scarce heeds their hue.'

`It was not your father, Mary,' answered Clara with emphasis.

`Who then could it be?' demanded Miss Hood, looking her friend in
the face with curiosity.

The young East Indian made no reply in words; but directing her
eyes with a quick glance to the piazza where Freemantle and Henry
Hood were standing each with a glass at his eye, watching the receding
vessels, she smiled and looked very significant.

The gaze of Miss Hood followed the glance and rested upon the
slight, but elegant and manly figure of the youthful privateersman.

`It could not have been this brave officer?' ventured Mary, believing
she interpreted aright Miss Forrest's looks.

`Do you remember that he has ever seen you before to-day?'

`No!'

`Have you any recollection of having met him?'

`No!'

`Then how could it be he?'

`You have puzzled me!'

`No. It was he. I heard it from him, Mary,' she added in a low
tone, `that you had fair brown hair and soft blue eyes. I could not believe
him, for I had never seen a blue-eyed maiden! In India all eyes
are lustrously black!

`Where did he see me? Where and when did he tell you this,
Clara?' asked Mary, her eyes resting with scarcely conscious interest
upon the form of the young man.

`You ask me three questions in a breath,' said Miss Forrest laughing:
`but I will try and gratify your curiosity. Where did he tell it
me? It was in India. When did he tell it me? It was last year!'

`Then you have seen him in India! I thought you only met the
first time to day!'

`Oh no; but do not speak so loudly. I would rather this were a
secret between us. All friends have secrets, and we must have them.
Let this be one!'

`I will not breathe it!' Now where did he see me?'

`What a truant memory you have, dear Mary! Do you remember
visiting a ship of war a year or a year and a half ago it may be?'

`In Boston Harbor?'

`Yes. I dare say it was!'

`Yes!'

`As you left the ship some accident occurred by which the boat filled
with water, and left you with others floating upon the surface. Was
it not so?'

`Oh, yes,' answered the young girl with emotion. `I shall never forget
that moment. I sank beneath the surface. I remember how I felt
as my eyes rested for the last time, as I believed, upon the green and
beautiful earth and pleasant blue sky!

`Yet you were rescued!'

`Yes, by one of the midshipmen who sprung over to save me!'

`Did you see his face?'

`No. When I came to myself he was not near me. I was only told
that I had been saved by a youth. I would have called him to thank
him but my father hurried me on shore!'

`Did you hear his name?'

`It was Freeman, I think my father said. I have always felt grateful
to this unknown youth and should be happy to meet and thank him.'

`It was not Freeman, but Freemantle! There is your preserver now
conversing so cheerfully with your pale, intellectual-looking brother.'

`Is it possible?' exclaimed the maiden.

`Why do you turn so pale!'

`It is with surprise and grateful emotion.

`Do not fly to thank him, there will be time enough by and by,' said
Clara laughing. `You now know who told me you had blue eyes as
well as who saved you from drowning.'

`I wonder he should recollect seeing me but once, and under such
circumstances.'

`Norman is very observing. Besides your beauty made an impression
upon him! Doubtless you would have had him at your feet, Mary,
if I had not managed to steal his true love.'

`And are you lover's?'

`Dont breathe it to the winds!'

`How mysterious you are, Clara! Is there a secret?'

`Yes. I will tell you by and by!'

`What, when you first saw him, and how he happened to fall in love
with you?'

`Yes!'

`And the mystery? Will you unfold that?'

`All to you, but to no other ear!'

`I can keep it secret! How very noble and brave he is, Clara,'
said the young girl, gazing admiringly upon the profile of the young
man, as he stood upon the piazza conversing with Henry. `Is his
name Norman?'

`Yes; Norman Freemantle!'

`Is he a New England young man?'

`Yes, but connected with a noble English family!'

`How happy you must be to have so handsome and brave a lover,'
sighed Mary, as she contrasted the young privateersman with Herbert
Vincent whom she loved without esteeming him.

`You sigh, Mary! You must not fall in love with Norman now! It
is too late! We must not be rivals!'

`I rival you, Clara!'

`Why, do you take me in earnest, child! I fear not Norman, however
I might fear your beauty. I know, too, you would not let your
heart be interested where you knew to love would be to love unrequited!
Have you no lover, Mary?' asked the beautiful East Indian,
archly.

The deep blush that mantled the cheek and the brow of the lovely
blonde, betrayed all that her friend sought.

`Who is it, Mary?'

`My cousin, Herbert!'

`The young man who has gone up to the city in the merchant-ship?'

`Yes!'

`I noticed him! He it was that first told my father that this was
Colonel Hood's villa. So he is to be your husband some day!'

`I do not know,' laughed and sighed Mary, both at the same time.
`As we are to be friends I will make you my confidant,' said the young
girl who had never had a confidant in her life, and whose heart was
now ready to pour itself forth with all its riches into the bosom of her
friend.

`I will be a trusty confidant, Mary. What is this love tale?'

`Herbert is my cousin, and we have loved each other from childhood.
The sisterly love of our younger days ripened into a deeper feeling and
we betrothed ourselves. Then Herbert was all that was honorable and
upright. I loved and esteemed him! Nay, I almost worshipped him.
He was a junior officer in the naval service of his country. He there
yielded to evil habits, and truth and principle, and all that makes man
noble and loved by woman departed from him. He was degraded from
the navy. He came to me and to my father and brother! They turned
away from him. I did so too though my heart was breaking!'

`Poor child!' said the East Indian, in tones of sweet sympathy, while
starry tears danced in her large dark eyes.

`They forbade him to visit us unless he formally withdrew his pretensions
to my hand, which my father and brother had once recognized.
He promised to do so, and was once more received as a visiter;
but on those colder terms which the change in his character seemed to
demand at their hands.'

`And you, Mary?'

`I also, tried to imitiate their coldness, but my heart was still warm
with that affection which had its root in the innocence of childhood.—
He discovered the true state of my heart, and availing himself of it privately
reserved his vows of love and I listened with joy!'

`Had his character changed any then for the better?'

`I know not—I asked not! I knew he was not all I would have
him! I knew he had forfeited the esteem of my brother and of my
father, and had been publicly degraded. Still I loved him!'

`And did you also feel proud of him as you once did?'

`Oh, no, I condemned my attachment while I gave myself up to it!—
Yesterday he proposed to me to elope with him?'

`And what was your answer?'

`I have yet given him none!'

`Alas, Mary, I pity you! You must not throw yourself away upon
one unworthy of you. You must give him a firm denial. I will try to
see if I cant cure you of this dangerous poison! Oh, that this Herbert
were the mirror of truth and honor, like yonder noble youth!'

`I would he were, indeed,' responded the maiden, with a deep sigh,
as Henry and Freemantle entered the parlor and approached them.

`My story you shall have this evening,' said Clara, as she met for an
instant the down cast glance of the maiden; and as she spoke she dropped
the shaded lids of her own dark, oriental eyes before the ardent gaze
of the young privateersman.