From the moment that I set foot on the deck of the Good Hope my mind was made up. I would tell the captain my story, throw myself on his mercy, and entreat him to rescue me. If he refused to do so I would contrive to effect my escape while we were in Boston. Surely in a town full of Protestants there must be some one who would protect me.
I had very little rest that night, though Mother Mary herself, the sickest of the party, scolded the others for their demands on me, and at last bade me lie down and not mind them. At daylight most of my charges were asleep, and I stole on deck to compose myself and breathe a little fresh air. Lo! There before me lay the land, green and fair, clothed with forest for the most part, but with here and there a clearing. How heavenly it all looked, but I had no time for gazing. There stood the captain, as I thought, with his back to me, looking toward the land. There was no time like the present, and I went quickly up to him.
"Captain Mayhew!" said I.
The stranger turned, and I saw Andrew Corbet. He looked at me with a bewildered, half-recognizing gaze, and the thought darted into my mind that he did not mean to know me. But it was no time for scruples or maiden shyness. The need was too imminent.
"Andrew!" said I. "If ever you loved me or my mother, save me!"
"Vevette!" said Andrew, still wondering. "It is Vevette."
Then catching me in his arms, he left me no doubt of the state of his heart. He never asked me whether I still loved him, and I don't think it ever occurred to him to doubt it.
"Well!" said a voice close by. "I should say, Mr. Corbet, that you had found some one you was kind of glad to see."
"Glad is no word," said Andrew, while I released myself, covered with blushes. "But how came you here?"
In a very few words, I told him of what had happened. Andrew's brow grew dark, and Captain Mayhew expressed the wish that he had that Frenchman on board.