“I don’t know—that is—I didn’t ask her,” answered Veale, stammering at the thought of Harris’ displeasure.
“Well,” Harris began, “this is worse than I thought would be laid at our door just yet. You mean, low, detestable, contemptible wretch!” he added, almost fiercely, turning to Veale, “do you know what you have done? actually stolen the only child of fondly-doting parents, and now trying to excuse yourself. I carried my mistress there, did I? But we were married first—married by the rites of a church she loved and revered; besides which, she left neither parents nor friends to mourn for her, and went because she wished to. I will return with you, Veale,” he continued, after a pause, “and bring the birdling back.”
It was long before the Arabel again reached America, and when, at dead of night, the pirates landed and made their way to the Glen, they were unnoticed, for the colonists had grown weary with watching, and given up in despair.
“Will you go home with me, Katy?” Harris said kindly, the next morning, as they reached the rock and commenced partaking of the provisions which the nimble fingers set before them.
Tears came to her dancing black eyes, and she answered, firmly, “I am afraid to go, sir. Can you not bring my mother here?”
Harris smiled, as he asked, “How old are you, Cathrin?”
“Eighteen summers and nineteen winters, sir,” she replied, looking at him from under her long lashes.
“Indeed!” said Harris, in surprise; “you look less than that.”
A frightened, half-angry look passed her face, as she heard from the furthest end of the cave the heavy voice of Veale swearing at one of the men.
“You are not used to profanity, poor child!” he continued, but she did not reply.