With a love of adventure, which no sense of anticipated or real danger could restrain, glowing upon his mind, and beaming forth from his handsome eyes, did Henry Huntington, upon his first landing upon the island, declare to his companions that he intended to pass the day in exploring its beautiful though limited dimensions, and when hunting for curious sea-shells and other marine curiosities, wherewith to enrich a sort of miniature museum which he had commenced some years before in merry England.

'Is that your real intention, Henry, or are you joking,' asked the earl, as the young man finished speaking.

'I certainly intend, sir, to spend the time allotted to me here, in doing as I have said,' replied Henry.

'Then it is my opinion that you will have a tiresome time of it,' said the earl.

'With all deference to your better judgment, my lord, I anticipate a far different result.'

'Well, then, I wish you all prosperity in your adventurous undertaking,' replied the earl, 'but be careful to keep within sight of the ship.'

'I shall undoubtedly be very careful about that, sir, for although I own that I am an enthusiastic lover of romantic adventures, I do not by any means, aspire to the envious celebrity of being left alone, in all my glory, upon a desolate island. But who amongst all the party is hardy enough to volunteer to go with me. Will you, Arthur?'

'Why, what a selfish fellow you have got to be, Henry,' said Mary Hamilton, 'to start on a wild goose chase yourself, and then ask the only other young gentleman of the party to accompany you.'

'That would be ungallant, without dispute,' chimed in 'sweet' Ellen Armstrong.

'Upon a second thought, I am compelled to believe it would,' replied Henry. 'But to settle the matter, by Lord Armstrong's leave, I will take his servant Patrick with me.'

'Do you hear that, Patrick,' asked the earl?

'Indade, sir, and I do,' replied Mr. Patrick O'Leary, with the true Hibernian accent. 'And its to the end of the world that I would follow swate master Henry, intirely.'

'Well, Patrick, let us take a start now, then,' said Henry.

'Stop a bit, if ye plase, master Henry, till I ask yer honor a bit of a question. Is there any wild bastes on this elligant little island?'

'Not that I know of. But what made you think of that, Patrick?'

'Faith, an it was just this, then, your honor. Ould Father McGrave, rest to his sowl, who was the parish praste at Bully Bannon, when I was a wee bit spalpeen of a boy, used to tell me that in 'forrin' places like this, where the sun was as hot as purgatory all the year round, there was a great plinty of tigers and illifonts, [meaning probably—elephants,] and sarpints, and all other kinds of savage bastes. Now I jest thought, master Henry, if that was the case here, I would just cut a couple of "shillalahs," one for each of us, off of yonder tree, as they might work in handy in case of accidint.'

'Although there is no danger of our being attacked by wild bastes, as you call them,' replied Henry, smiling at the simplicity of the honest Patlander, 'still, the shillalahs may not come amiss, so make haste and cut them, and then we will set out upon our journey,'

Having thus gained Huntington's permission, Pat O'Leary lost no time in repairing to the tree which he has before mentioned, where he selected two of its branches, which he thought suitable to his purposes, he quickly cut them from their parent trunk with his jacknife, and returned with them to Henry, who chose the shortest one of the two, and then said:—

'Now, Patrick, as they have all gone off and left this spot, it is time for us to follow their example.'

'Fast as yer honor plases,' replied Patrick, and so saying, he immediately followed Henry, who had advanced some paces ahead of him, and they then proceeded both together, on their intended expedition.

They walked on for some moments in silence, which, however, was broken by Henry, who thus addressed his companion,—

'Well, Patrick, what do you think of this beautiful spot?'

'Och, yer honor, and I think its just the most illigant little spot in the world, where the pratees, [meaning, possibly, the oranges and lemons,] grow on the trees, and where one never sees a snake, nor a sarpint at all, at all. Sure, and I think that the blessed Saint Patrick must have stopped at this place in the course of his travels, and killed all the snakes, and the frogs, and the vipers, bad luck to them, as he did in ould Ireland.'

'But how should you like to live here altogether?' asked Henry.

'Live, is it, master Henry? Sure, an I had rather live here than any place in the wide world, besides barrin my own blessed ould Ireland.'

'What, alone?' again asked Huntington.

'By the powers, sir, no, not a bit of it,' replied the Patlander. 'The devil a bit would Pat O'Leary wish to live alone in any place, bat I was just thinking, master Henry, that if you and Miss Hamilton, bless the light of her blessed black eyes, would only consint to be married, and live upon this pretty, convanient little island, what a nate, clane, comfortable serving man you might have in Patrick O'Leary.'

Not knowing exactly, in what way to reply to Patrick's last speech, Henry remained for the time silent, and they thus proceeded on their journey, ascending first to the top of one hill, then after passing through a fertile and beautiful valley, ascending another, until at last they got completely tired. As they reached the second valley, Henry spoke as follows:

'I think we had better rest here awhile, Patrick.'

'Just as you plase, sir,' answered his companion, 'rest or go on, it's all one to Paddy O'Leary.'

'Then I guess we will stop here,' said Henry.

So saying, he seated himself on the luxuriant green grass, beneath a fragrant orange tree, and Patrick was about to follow his example, when the sudden appearance of three men on the summit of an adjacent eminence, greeted the curious gaze which he cast around, and caused him to exclaim:

'By the powers of mud and blarney, master Henry, if there is no four legged bastes upon this illigant bit of an island, there's plenty of two legged ones.'

'What do you mean,' exclaimed Henry, starting to his feet.

'What do I mane? An sure, and what shall I mane, yer honor, except just what I said? Just look at the top of that young mountain yonder, and you will see two ugly looking two legged bastes, headed by a third, who looks for all the world like the horrid baste with 'sivin heads and ten horns,' that Father McGrave used to tell us was stabled in purgatory, and ridden by the very ould divil himself.'

Turning his eyes in the direction intimated, Henry immediately discovered the three strong men to whom Patrick had alluded, and they seemed at the same time to have seen him, for soon afterwards he observed that they were descending the hill, and walking swiftly towards the place where he and his servant were standing.

'By the boys of Bulskerry, them divils are all armed, every mother's son of them,' exclaimed O'Leary, as the strangers gained a near approach to them.

'So they are, sure enough,' answered Henry. 'But what shall we do, Pat, run away, or stop and see what they want of us?'

'It would surely be the asiest and most agreeable for both of us, to show them a light pair of heels, or, in yer honor's own words, to run away, that is, if so be that we had any where to run to,—but as we haven't, why, the best thing we can be after doing, is to—to do the best we can,—by staying where we am.'

Having arrived at this very logical, and important conclusion, our honest Hibernian flourished his shillalah above his head, but the next moment it was snatched from his grasp by Blackbeard, who cast it away to a considerable distance.

'Bad luck to yer, for a murthering blackguard,' exclaimed Pat, as nothing daunted, he closed in with the pirate, and with his superior strength, would have easily crushed him to the earth, had not one of his (Blackbeard's) comrades struck poor Pat a violent blow on the head with the butt of his pistol, which caused him to let go his hold, and as he afterwards averred, 'knocked the life from his head down to the inds of his toes.'

Whilst this curious transaction was in progress, Henry Huntington was busily engaged in parrying the thrusts which were aimed at him by the third pirate, with his stout walking stick, (which might, perhaps, be more properly termed a heavy club,) and so lustily did he lay about him, that he soon managed to knock his adversary down, through the agency of a blow, (which, as it was afterwards discovered, fractured the villain's skull,) when Blackbeard and the other man, who had just got clear of Pat, fell suddenly upon Henry Huntington, and soon disarmed him.

This having been accomplished, Blackbeard addressed him as follows:

'Dost thou know, rash and fool-hardy man, that you have incurred death, by daring to resist my authority, and wounding one of my comrades?

'Though I know nothing either of you or your authority, or your comrades, I do know, that as far forth as I could, I have done my duty.'

'And I still have mine to do,' answered Blackbeard. 'Knowest thou that Mary Hamilton is in my power?'

'What,' exclaimed Henry, wildly, 'do I hear aright? Is my affianced in the power of—'

'If Mary Hamilton is your affianced wife, she is certainly in the power of Blackbeard, the far-famed pirate of the Roanoke.'

'God help her then,' exclaimed Henry, hardly knowing what he said.

'Amen,' exclaimed the pirate, in a tone of cruel mockery.

'If it is true, what you have told me,' said Henry, earnestly, 'only let her go, free her, Mary Hamilton, from your cruel grasp, and then you may kill, torture, do anything with my poor body that you will.'

'I shall dispose of her, and you too, just as I please,' answered Blackbeard, 'but I shall not stop longer here to bandy words with you.'

As he finished speaking, the pirate raised his silver call to his lips, and as its loud clear whistle rung out upon the still air, three more desperadoes appeared suddenly upon the scene of action, whom Blackbeard thus addressed:

'Comrades, convey this young sprig of nobility,' pointing to Henry, 'and that prostrate Irishman,' pointing to Patrick, (who was just beginning to recover from the blow which had stunned him,) 'to the cavern, under the palace, where you will see that they are closely confined.'

So saying, Blackbeard turned quickly away, and soon disappeared through the adjoining forest.

The cavern to which the pirate had alluded in his last speech, as being under the 'palace,' was a large, subterranean appartment, which was generally used by the bucaniers as a place of storage for their ill gotten plunder. This cavern had had many, and various ways of entrance, the principal one of which, was near the outside of the palace, and was opened by removing a broad, flat stone, which had been ingeniously set upright in a small banking, apparently of earth, which surrounded this singular abode.

We might as well say here, as anywhere, that we are well aware that the representation given by us of the pirate's palace and cavern, will be looked upon by many as unnatural and improbable, but when they consider that the bucaniers of that period were very numerous, and consisted of men of almost every variety of genius, which must, even in its times of relaxation, be employed about something, they will cease, perhaps, to wonder that the ingenuity of such men should be exerted in building convenient, and even elegant structures for their accommodation, and their extensive means of enriching them with ornaments the most costly, with which the numerous Indiamen they captured were freighted, will not be farther questioned.

But to return to our story.

Finding himself surrounded by four or five armed and desperate men, Huntington, concluding that resistance would be in vain, signified his readiness to follow them, whereupon he was led by two of their number to the cavern above alluded to, whilst the remaining pirates bestowed their attention upon poor Patrick O'Leary, whom, (as he had not yet recovered his powers of locomotion,) they lifted upon their shoulders and bore him away after his master, much in the same manner as they would have carried a slaughtered beast.

Having arrived with their prisoners at the place assigned for their confinement, the pirates conversed amongst themselves, as follows:

'I say, Poplin,' exclaimed one who seemed to be a kind of petty officer, 'what do you suppose our captain intends to do with these two bear cubs that we have here?'

'I cannot say, Mr. Pepper,' replied the person to whom that worthy had spoken, 'what he will do with that red-headed son of a mushroom, that lays rolled up there yonder, like a bundle of half dead lobsters, but as for the other one, he, you know, killed Pedro, and I heard the captain say that he would be hanged.'

'Then of course he will be, so that settles that affair,' replied Mr. Pepper, very coolly. 'But what do you suppose, Poplin, he is going to do with that fine lady, that he's got up overhead there?'

'Which one do you mean? He's got two of them,' said Poplin.

'Ah, yes, so he has, I recollect now. I mean both,' said Pepper.

'I cannot tell only about the youngest one,' replied Poplin, 'whom the captain is going to take on board the brig.'

'What, has the pretty little craft arrived?' asked Pepper.

'She has,' rejoined the other.

'Then its all over with the Indiaman.'

'Of course it is,' replied Poplin, significantly.

'But the Indiaman you know,' suggested Pepper, 'carried double the number of guns that the brig does.'

'She carries a Captain Rowland also,' said Poplin, drily.

'Ah, I understand it all now,' said Pepper, 'so let us confine the prisoners, and then go up and see the fun.'

So saying, a few moments afterwards, Pepper and his companions departed, leaving Henry Huntington and Pat to their own reflections.

What these reflections were, we shall leave for the present to the imagination of our readers, and resume in our next chapter the further adventures of Blackbeard, Arthur Huntington, and sweet Ellen Armstrong.