without having taken the preliminary steps toward donning the sacerdotal robe. He took passage at Seville, and, so far, the voyage had been prosperous. The brigantine, in addition to a goodly cargo of wine, provisions, and cloth goods for the West India trade, had a number of passengers, men, women, and children, aboard.

Francisco was in the forward part of the ship when the pursuer was discovered. There was much speculation as to her strange conduct; but no serious fears were entertained until a wreath of white smoke curled up from her forecastle and a ball came skipping over the water, accompanied by the distant boom of a cannon. As the fine spray clipped from the crested waves by the round shot flew over the deck, the captain of the brigantine became fully aroused to the danger of his situation. He displayed the Spanish flag, put his vessel about, and bore away as we have stated with every stitch of canvas spread. Francisco, who had been dreaming his day-dream, in which were blue eyes, golden hair, and a fair face, turned from the forward deck and hurried aft to see if they would be pursued.

"What does it mean, captain ?" he asked.

"We are chased by a pirate," was the answer. "Can we escape her?"

"She gains on us,”

Francisco became fully aroused to their danger, and the spirit of the warrior, so natural in him, began to assert itself. He insisted that they arm themselves and beat off the pirate; but, alas! they were deficient in both arms and courage. While still discussing the trying situation, another puff of smoke issued from the forecastle of the pursuer, and there came a loud crash as an iron ball struck the stern, coming through to the poop deck, and, spinning half-way across, struck a coil of rope and rolled along the deck.

The passengers and most of the crew were wild with fear, uttering the most piteous cries and Finding escape impossible, the captain prayers. caused his ship to heave to and struck his colors. The Frenchmen came boldly alongside, and D'Oranger, Des Fourneaux, La Croix, Stephens, John Gyrot, and their grim followers, with swords in hand, poured over the side of the prize. Francisco Estevan, who stood on the high poop deck biting his lips with indignation at this humiliating surrender, started with a cry of astonishment on discovering John Gyrot among his captors.

"I need expect no mercy now," the young Spaniard thought.

The male prisoners were driven forward, and their hands tied behind their backs, while the women and children were sent below. Then the

pirates began plundering the ship of its valuables. D'Oranger prudently placed a guard over the liquors, and permitted only a limited amount to be issued to his men. Then followed a long consultation as to what should be done with the prisoners. The sun went down, the moon rose, and night had resumed her sway before the question was decided.

Francisco Estevan stood in the forecastle, his hands tied behind his back gazing at the broad faced, friendly moon riding peacefully in the heavens, and asked himself how it was all to end. Would he live to see the dawn of another day, or would those dark monsters put an end to his sufferings that night? Mingled with the sad recollections of the past and the gloomy reflections of the present, was the sweet face of the pretty Huguenot, which he could not banish from his memory. He was standing, gloomy and silent, among the other prisoners, when John Gyrot approached him.

"Monsieur Estevan, the priest, did you think I would not know you?"

Francisco glanced at the ugly face surmounted by a mass of black hair, but made no answer. With a gleam of satisfaction on his diabolical features, Gyrot added:

"Monsieur does not seem happy."

"No, the sight of a reptile is not inspiring." "Monsieur is not complimentary; but, considering his present condition, I will overlook what he Why did he so suddenly leave Beaucarre?" "I had no wish to stay longer."

says.

"Monsieur found the society of the Huguenot, Mademoiselle De Barre, delightful."

There was such a tantalizing tone in the ironical words of the Frenchman that the blood of the Spaniard was fired and had he been free he would have struck him.

"Don't breathe her name-hypocrite-you are not worthy!" gasped Francisco.

With a low, disagreeable chuckle, which, like his speech, seemed choked in the throat of the pirate, Gyrot turned away and left the prisoner.

The forlorn group of captives silently wondered what would be their fate. The moon now riding high in the heavens, flooded the sea with peaceful light. The captors were busy arranging something, and it was several moments before the captives could comprehend their designs. They brought a broad plank, and, placing one end of it over the side of the vessel, lashed the other end firmly to the bulwark. When the prisoners realized their fate a storm of wails and groans went up from them. Some even fell on their knees and implored their captors to spare their lives; but the

Frenchmen, without heeding their entreaties, went coolly about their abominable work. When the board had been made steady, D'Oranger directed his men to bring a prisoner, and Stephens and La Croix seized the trembling master of the prize and dragged the wretched Spaniard to the plank.

"Place him on it."

The prisoner struggled, and they had to prick him with the points of their swords to drive him forward. His hands were securely tied behind his back, and in this manner he was made to walk to the end of the board and jump off into the sea, his drowning screams piercing the ears of his wretched companions like a knife.

"Bring on another," commanded the pirate captain.

A second one was brought and, after a desperate struggle, placed on the board. He implored and prayed to be spared, but was unrelentingly pushed forward at the points of their swords, until he bled from a score of wounds. Goaded to madness, he rushed forward and plunged into the sea, never to rise. Thus the horrible work went on. One by one the cries and supplications of the captives were hushed as their numbers grew less. Without a murmur, Francisco Estevan awaited his summons to death. He strove in vain to burst the cords which bound his wrists, determined to sell