At length the captain of the vessel entered, with a sad and gloomy countenance: "It is no use, lady, to try it any longer," he said; "they have carried away our topmast; and we have no chance now. I have done the best for you that I could, but it is vain. Have I your consent to heave-to?"
"At once," answered Arabella; "do not let them fire at you again. Make them some signal, my good friend. Now for my prison again," she murmured, as the captain left her. "I have never yet known hope, but to be disappointed;" and, bending down her head, she pressed her handkerchief upon her eyes, while a low struggling sob or two told that she was weeping, but strove to restrain her tears.
In a few minutes she had overcome her emotion, and, wiping her eyes, sat calmly, till the sound of many voices speaking on the deck, and at the side of the vessel, showed her that a boat from the pinnace was alongside. After a short pause, steps were again heard coming down, and an English gentleman appeared, completely armed, as was the custom of that age.
"The Lady Arabella Stuart?" he said, advancing into the cabin, and gazing around.
"My name is Arabella Seymour, sir," answered the lady; "but I suppose you mean myself."
"I do, madam," he replied; "and I regret to say, that my orders are to land you and convey you to London, as a prisoner. But before I do so, I must beg you to answer me truly, whether Mr. Seymour be on board?"
Arabella started, and looked up, with an expression of joy.
"He has escaped, then!" she cried; "he has escaped. Thank God, thank God! Pardon me, Lord, for murmuring at thy will! He has escaped, and I am happy."
"Then I am to conclude, madam," said the officer, "that he is not on board this ship?"
"Most assuredly he is not," replied Arabella; "of that I pledge you my word. I trust that by this time he is safe in France."