their being taken from you, or any other accident happening to you, I
have written these two letters, which you had better bear about your
person. One is, as you see, to our Consul at Algiers, and may serve as
credentials; the other is to my husband, to whom I have already written
respecting you.'

'A thousand thanks, Madame,' returned Arthur. 'But I hope and trust we
may all reach M. le Comte in safety together. You yourself said that
you expected only a brief detention before he could be communicated
with, and this captain, renegade though he be, evidently has a respect
for you.'

'That is quite true,' she returned, 'and it may only be my foolish
heart that forebodes evil; nevertheless, I cannot but recollect that
c'est l'imprevu qui arrive.'

'Then, Madame, that is the very reason there should be no misfortune,'
returned Arthur.

It was on the second day after the capture of the tartane that the sun
set in a purple angry-looking bank of cloud, and the sea began to heave
in a manner which renewed the earlier distresses of the voyage to such
as were bad sailors. The sails both of the corsair and of the tartane
were taken in, and it was plain that a rough night was to be expected.
The children were lashed into their berths, and all prepared themselves
to endure. The last time Arthur saw Madame de Bourke's face, by the
light of the lamp swinging furiously from the cabin roof, as he
assisted in putting in the dead lights, it bore the same fixed
expression of fortitude and resignation as when she was preparing to be
boarded by the pirates.