yet there was a lightness to his heart, a buoyancy in his breast, which
he had not known for nearly a score of years, for he now felt that all
shame of birth was removed from him, that he was respectably and even
highly born, and that in point of blood was even the equal, full equal
of that fair and lovely girl he regarded so devotedly.

Of course there was no disguise between Charles Bramble and Helen, and
her mother, as to the charge brought against him. They knew very well
that he had been engaged in the evil trade of the coast, but they knew
also that he had conducted his part of the business upon the most humane
principles which the traffic would admit, and that he was not a
principal, but an agent in the business, sailing his ship as rich owners
had directed, and also that besides the fact of his having utterly
renounced the trade altogether since he became acquainted with Helen
Huntington, his heart and feelings had never been engaged in its
necessary requirements. Realizing these facts, we say, neither Helen nor
her mother regarded Captain Ratlin (the only character in which they yet
knew him) to be actually and seriously culpable as to at charge of
inhumanity.

The gratification which Helen evinced on meeting him the next morning
after his escape from the ship, was too honest, too unmistakable in its
import not to raise up fresh hopes in his heart, that, in spite of his
seeming disgrace, his confinement as a prisoner, his trial as an outlaw,
and his fallen fortunes generally, still there was one heart that beat
purely and tenderly with at least a sister's affection for him, and even
Mrs. Huntington, who had not for one moment suspected the true state of
her daughter's sentiments towards the young commander, did not hesitate
to salute him tenderly, and assure him of her gratification at his
release from bondage. She was a generous hearted woman, frank and