astern; he then resumed his course. A second attempt was clumsier, and
was easily evaded; the assailants were hurried and impatient; nor did
they know the seamanlike qualities of the man with whom they were
dealing. But Jean saw that ultimate escape was hopeless, and this was
equally apparent to Hilda who, however, though pale as death, gave a
firm pressure of the hand in response to his grasp. At this moment an
object glimmered under the youth's feet: stooping down he touched the
shell. The hermit's parting words flashed on his mind: he seized on the
hope of rescue, and sounded two loud and clear blasts.

The pirates now altered their tactics. Handling their vessel with more
care they succeeded, after two or three unsuccessful attempts, in
ranging alongside and grappling the boat. A man sprung on board and
seized Hilda. "A rare booty!" he cried,--"the Gods repent of their
waywardness." Jean was engaged with those of the crew who had seized the
boat; the man laughingly gave the girl a rough embrace: it was the last
act he had to record before entering the spirit world. Hilda drew from
her bosom one of the daggers which Jean had noticed on the tower walls,
whose blade, still sharp and keen, might have been forged by a Damascus
smith; it struck deep to the heart of the ruffian, who fell lifeless
into the waves. Jean had now freed the craft, but the respite was short:
before she had made much progress she was again captured. The pirates,
furious at the death of their comrade, made a determined onslaught.
Jean, fighting desperately, received from behind a terrific blow which
laid him senseless. But a superstitious feeling made them hesitate
before committing further outrage; they had recognized Hilda, and feared
the consequence of Judith's vengeance if she were injured. There was no
time, however, for delay; the, rude repairs, torn by the trampling feet,
had given way, and the leak had re-opened: the boat was fast sinking.
The pirates cared not for Jean's lifeless body; that might sink or swim;