"Make yourself easy on that score, my dear sir; I know my father wishes to have me quit going to sea, and marry."
"Yes, but is not a wife, brought into your family in this way, liable to be looked upon as a sort of contraband article—run goods like?
"I am not much afraid of that, on my father's part," said Morton; "and if," he continued, laughing, "if the grave old ladies of my acquaintance find fault, I can quiet them in a moment, by quoting the conduct of the tribe of Benjamin, in a similar situation, by way of precedent."
"Ah, Charlie! your scheme, I am afraid, is all top-hamper, and no ballast; wont the enemy give chase? I am sure that Don—Don—what's his name, that young officer, more than suspects your good standing in the young lady's affections: wont he alarm the coast, and put the old folks up to rowing guard round her, so that you can't communicate? Ay, that he will."
"Trust me for that, sir; if I cannot weather upon any Spaniard that ever went unhanged, either Creole or old Castilian, I'll agree to go to the mines for life."
"Don't be too rash, my dear boy; though the Spaniards are only courageous behind shot-proof walls, and when they number three to one, they are deceitful as well as cruel; and, if their suspicions are once excited, they will murder you at once, and her too, poor girl! and think they are doing God service, because you are both Protestants."
"I can only repeat, trust to my prudence and management; I have too much at stake to hazard it lightly."
"Then remember, Charles, we sail Wednesday evening: it will be star-light, but not too dark to see your way. I will defer sailing till eleven o'clock, if that will suit your schemes."
"It will exactly; or if you sail the moment I return, so much the better."
With these words, they separated—Morton, overjoyed at the completion of his preliminary arrangements, all night, like Peter Pindar's dog,