‘I beg pardon, sir.’
‘For what do you beg pardon, Mr. Lovell?’ asked the captain.
‘I don’t exactly understand you, sir.’
‘You are very dull.’
‘I fear I am, sir.’
‘Well, say for instance, then, if I should make you a present of this brig, all her equipments and armament, wouldn’t you be willing to give up the lady and become the captain and owner of the fastest and best privateer that sails out of the colonies? What say you, Mr. Lovell?’
Lovell paused for a moment in thought, not to consider the proposition that was made to him, but the idea struck him that the man before him was the late captain of the king’s cutter, Burnet, whom he had never seen and knew only by description. What could possibly have induced him to undertake his deliverance from prison?
‘I see it all,’ said Lovell to himself, ‘Fanny has made this service the price of her hand, and the reward he will receive will be the death blow to my happiness.’
Lovell in his agitation rose and walked the cabin hurriedly; at length turning to the captain, he said—
‘Captain Channing, or whatever be your name, I beg pardon, sir, I mean no disrespect to you, far from it, I am already deeply your debtor; but if any other man had made me that proposition, I would have fought him to the last gasp. Death, sir,’ said Lovell warming himself with the thought, ‘is the girl of one’s heart to be made a marketable article of?’