The earl pressed her hand in silence, touched by the sweet simplicity of her manner, and admiring the sublime hope which elevated her above the fear that gives bitterness to the cup of life.
"There is a strange vessel bearing down upon us, which the captain has reason to think is a pirate," he said, with more composure.
Grace turned pale, but betrayed no emotion beyond an upward glance of her eyes and a movement of her lips, as if in silent prayer.
"It is our intention to fight him, and only surrender with our lives. In case we should be overcome, and the pirates board us—and I should not survive to protect you any longer—" Here the earl stopped from emotion, pressed his niece to his heart, and then hastily added, "you are my brother's daughter! you have his spirit and decision! I will trust to you."
"Uncle, speak! explain, my lord!" gasped the young creature, terrified at his manner rather than his words, which her innocence could not comprehend.
He drew from his breast a dagger, and silently placed it in her hands.
"For what is this, my lord?" she gasped, half guessing its fearful meaning.
"You must sacrifice yourself before you suffer these ruffians to lay hands upon you," he said, with emotion that nearly rendered his words inaudible.
She clasped her hands over her forehead and stared in his face with a wild glare—her colourless lips parted with horror—and her whole frame shivering. Like a thunderbolt, the horrible reality of her situation had flashed upon her.
"Ha! what? ha! what? ha—wh—" and with a piercing and most heart-rending shriek she fell upon the cabin floor. He raised her, and spoke to her in tender accents of sympathy.