This time, lacking the flood of sea-water, my swoon lasted much longer. I recovered to find myself in the great cabin, lying upon a luxurious berth, close to a stern window. Already my back had been covered with a soothing, cooling balm and wrapped about with bandages. I sought to turn upon my side, that I might look around. At once gentle hands lent their aid to my support.

"He revives!" exclaimed my lady.

"'T was best to dress the wound before applying restoratives," chirruped Dr. Cuthbert.

But now I was fairly on my side, and could see the dear form of my lady.

"Alisanda!" I murmured.

"Juan!" she responded, kneeling and pressing her lips to mine regardless of the doctor's presence. "My Juan! I am here, my beloved. I am with you!"

I caught sight of the weal of the lash across her forehead, and I quivered with fury.

"That!" I muttered—"that mark upon your forehead! They struck you?"

"No, no!" she soothed. "Lie still, beloved. It was only an accident. It does not hurt me—nothing can hurt me, Juan, now that we have found each other!"

"Dearest one!" I whispered.

She bent close above me, with her soft round arm about my neck,—and quickly all my pain and rage died away and were forgotten under the glory of the golden love-light in her tender eyes.

Dr. Cuthbert coughed, then took snuff. At that moment we would not have heeded a cannon roaring in our ears.

At last, however, Father Rocus entered, followed closely by Captain Powers. Alisanda quietly rose to face them, but held to my hand as a mother would clasp the hand of the child she sought to defend. The captain stared at her between anger and admiration.

"Mademoiselle Vallois!" he rumbled. "What does all this mean? How dare you interfere with the discipline of my ship?"

"How dare you, who call yourself an officer and a Christian, torture so hideously this gentleman?" she returned.

"Gentleman?—Torture?" he echoed, taken aback.

"The gentleman I am betrothed to marry."

"Marry!—Him?"

"Santisima Virgen! yes!" she cried. "And you!—you have lashed him like a slave!—the truest, most gallant gentleman in Christendom!"

He muttered something about the mad third mate of a sloop. To this Dr. Cuthbert made hasty reply: "All a mistake, sir,—a most egregious error. Mr. Robinson is, I am certain, precisely what he claimed."

"Nevertheless," broke in the captain, his voice as hard as iron, "the man has been tried, found guilty, and sentenced to one hundred lashes. He has received ninety-seven. There are still three strokes."

"I will bear them for him!" said Alisanda.

"Mademoiselle, do not make yourself ridiculous," he reproved.

"Better that than your cowardly cruelty in seeking to lash to death a citizen of the Republic which revolted from your brutal rule!" she thrust back at him.

He stood for some moments gazing into her scornful eyes. Despite all his harshness and arrogance, I believe he was alike pleased with her spirit and softened by her beauty.

"This man is entered in my crew as a subject of His Majesty," he at last stated, in a tone which invited argument.

"He is not a Briton," she replied. "I know he is an American. I met and travelled with him in his own land. I saw, on the bank of the Ohio, the tomb of his mother, who was slain by the red savages in the pay of your Government. He was a volunteer with an expedition under Lieutenant Pike of the Army of the United States. They crossed the western deserts of Louisiana and the lofty sierras of the West, and came far south into New Spain."

"Hold!" exclaimed the captain. "That is incredible."

"It is the truth," confirmed Father Rocus.

"You support her statement, sir?" demanded Powers.

"I am ready to swear to it, on my sacred word," replied the padre. "This gentleman upon the couch is Dr. John H. Robinson, a physician of the Louisiana Territory, who was the compagnon du voyage of Lieutenant Pike in the amazing journey of which SeÑorita Vallois has spoken. It is as I told you before we entered."

Father Rocus spoke with no less force than suavity.

"It begins to look as though a mistake had been made," admitted the captain with obstinate reluctance.

"A mistake, sir, which has come near to costing Dr. Robinson his life," ventured Dr. Cuthbert, snuff-box in hand.

"A mistake which can never be rectified," added Father Rocus.

The stubborn Briton was at last convinced. "I will make such reparation as lies within my power. Dr. Robinson, I offer you my apology for this unfortunate mistake."

I closed my eyes and clung tightly to Alisanda's hand, that I might not fling his apology back in his teeth. I heard the murmur of the padre's voice, followed by the tread of feet and the opening and closing of the door. Then once more Alisanda's arm was about my neck and her fragrant lips were pressed upon my mouth.

"Dearest," she whispered, "they have gone. I alone am here now, to comfort you."

"You are here!" I repeated. "Tell me. How did you come? I sailed for Vera Cruz, but they took me by force from the sloop."

I paused, as suddenly my two memories brought together the sloop Siren and the sloop which had sunk my lady's ship.

"Lafitte!" I exclaimed.

"Lafitte?" she asked, bewildered.

"All's well that ends well!" I cried. "After all, he brought us together."

"Who, Juan?"

"Jean Lafitte, the man who was to have landed me in Vera Cruz."

"Ah, Vera Cruz—Santa Maria! that terrible city! People were dying by scores of the yellow fever. We lingered as long as we dared. But you did not come. The padre said you could not have read my message aright. We at last took ship for Western Florida. There was none sailing for New Orleans."

"You were coming to me! But the veil—the nun's veil?"

"It is gone—see!" She put her free hand to the silky mass of her dusky hair. "God forgive me, Juan! It was for your sake, and with the assent of the padre, that I took the novitiate vows."

"For my sake, Alisanda?"

"That I might come to you, my knight! When you left me, my uncle became all the more insistent that I should marry the Governor-General. The padre had already planned for me this way of escape. I took the vows of a novice. After that neither my uncle nor DoÑa Marguerite dared oppose the counsel of the padre when he told them I must go to the Convent of my Order in Vera Cruz. You see how selfish a love is mine. I could not give you up, Juan. I was not a heroine, to give myself for the saving of an oppressed people."

"No!" I rejoined. "You could not have helped the people of New Spain. They must fight their own battles. No people are worthy of freedom who are not ready to give their lives for the ending of tyranny. Had you sacrificed yourself to Salcedo, he would either have betrayed the revolution, or he would have made himself a dictator, more tyrannous than before."

"You told me that in Chihuahua, dear. I repeated your words to the padre, and he confirmed the statement. It was well, for had he shared my uncle's faith in Don Nimesio, he also might have sought to persuade me to give myself to the cause of liberty."

"As it was," I murmured, "you attempted to come to me—alone!"

"Not alone, Juan. There were the padre and my faithful Chita."

"Ah, Chita—I did not see her in the boat."

My lady began to weep. "Poor Chita! She was killed by a cannon-ball, when standing beside me, during that fearful destruction of our ship by the pirate sloop."

"Pirate!" I repeated. "They flew the black flag?"

"No; but it was a flag unknown to our captain, and he said they must be pirates. They attacked us without warning and signalled that they would give us no quarter—and they killed my poor Chita!"

I remembered the dreadful vow of Captain Lafitte, but forgot it again in my efforts to comfort my darling. I drew her lovely head down upon my shoulder and stroked her silky hair.

In the midst Father Rocus entered and came over to us, rubbing his plump, white hands together with satisfaction.

"My dear children," he said, "after all your trials, you have at last won the happiness you deserve. Though you, my son, remain a heretic, I believe that such love as yours is sacred in the sight of God. My daughter, come now, that I may prepare you for the sacrament of holy wedlock."

"Now?—so soon?" she cried, drawing free from me, and standing, scarlet-cheeked, her eyes fixed upon the deck, and her sweet bosom rising and falling tremulously.

"He is bruised and torn in spirit and body. You alone can soothe him," said the padre.

She cast at me a glance of unutterable tenderness, and withdrew into the adjoining stateroom. Father Rocus paused for a last word to me: "My son, this moment should be as solemn to you as it is joyful. Consider the great goodness of God in giving to you a wife more precious than rubies. In that thought, remember the words of our Blessed Lord Christ, 'Forgive your enemies.'"

With that he left me, and I lay alone in my burning pain, wondering if it were possible for any man to forgive so bitter a shame and wrong as had been done to me. But quickly a sort of ecstatic awe crept over me as the consciousness of my marvellous—my splendid good fortune took possession of my mind. It seemed unbelievable, and yet he had said it. My dear lady was about to become my bride! She had crossed the gulf to me!

In the bliss of that thought, all my pain and anguish of body and mind vanished, and the bitterness of shame, the fury of hate dissolved away. I could not forgive my enemies, but the memory of their deeds was blunted and smoothed over by the magic of love.

When at last Captain Powers came in with a few others to witness the ceremony, I was able to bring myself to the point of accepting the apology he had tendered. This was well, for otherwise it would have been difficult to endure the service which, as captain of the ship, it was necessary for him to render us to assure the legality of our marriage.

Soon Father Rocus led in my dear lady. She was no longer blushing, but calm and pale. In the presence of the men who had condemned me to death and to a disgrace worse than death, she raised her head and passed by them with the hauteur of a queen. Yet once at my side, she knelt and clasped my hand with a tender devotion that fetched more than one envious sigh from the breasts of the younger officers. Never had she seemed more lovely, more adorable, than as she waited beside me, her dark eyes upraised and glowing with solemn ecstasy.

The sonorous voice of Father Rocus rang in my ears like the sweet harmonies of some heavenly choir. I had insisted upon lifting myself upon my elbow, and when the padre handed me the ring, I made shift to slip it upon the finger of my bride. A little more, and the good padre raised his hands above us and blessed us as man and wife.

With that the officers came forward and expressed their congratulations, forgetting their British stiffness and reserve in their heartiness. At such a moment I could have thanked Satan himself for a word of good-will. Yet I was not ill-pleased when, having received my responses, they bowed themselves out. As the last of their number closed the door behind him, Father Rocus drew from his robe a rounded pouch of worn leather, and held it out to me.

"What is this, padre?" I asked, taking the heavy little bag.

He nodded gayly to Alisanda. "According to the Spanish, and, I believe, the American law, you are entitled to the charge of this property. When we left Chihuahua, SeÑorita Vallois intrusted her jewels to my care. I now deliver them into the hands of her husband."

He smiled at my bewildered look, blessed us the second time, and left us alone.

"Sweetheart," I muttered, "I did not know—"

She smiled in tender mischief. "Was it not a happy surprise? Before my father died, there in the fogs of England, he sold all his Spanish estates and bought jewels, that I might keep possession of my property. Such being his will, not even his brother, my uncle, would take the jewels from me."

"Nor will I, Alisanda," I said.

"You will share them equally with me, dear husband; for we are now one. If it is your desire, we will purchase an estate at New Orleans. I dread your cold, wet North."

"Whatever your heart desires, dearest one, it shall ever be the object of my life to obtain it for you. Your wish shall ever be my law, my bride!"

"Juan, my husband!" she murmured, and our lips met in that first rapturous kiss of man and wife.

Two days later, having in the meantime stood off toward the Spanish port of Mobile, the Belligerent fell in with a Philadelphia brig, bound for New Orleans. The master of the Quaker vessel readily bargained to take us as passengers, and we were accordingly put aboard the Mary Penn by Captain Powers, after we had taken a most affectionate farewell of Father Rocus. He was going on to Mobile to care for the rescued Spaniards, of whom, all being persons of no political or military consequence, the British were eager to rid themselves.

Except between ourselves and the padre, the parting afforded a welcome relief to all. There had not alone been the matter of personal shame. In these years of national humiliation, it would be difficult for any true American to act the part of a gracious guest aboard a British man-of-war.

But once aboard the Mary Penn, there was nothing to mar the perfect joy of our love. After a short and smooth voyage, the brig put into one of the many mouths of the Mississippi, and, ascending in charge of a pilot, landed us at New Orleans, the happiest couple in all the wide world.

THE END