And now, once again, we find ourselves in the palm-grove of Ratinga Island. It is a fine autumn afternoon. The air is still as regards motion, but thrilling with the melody of merry human voices as the natives labour in the fields, and alive with the twittering of birds as they make love, quarrel, and make it up again in the bushes. Now and then a hilarious¹ laugh bursts from a group of children, or a hymn² rises from some grateful heart, for as yet there is no secular³ music in Ratinga!  
In the lagoon⁴ lies a man-of-war, its sails neatly⁵ furled, and its trim rigging, dark hull⁶, and taper⁷ spars, perfectly⁸ reproduced in the clear water.
 
As the sun sank lower towards the west, our friend Ebony might have been seen slowly climbing the side of one of the neighbouring hills with Richard Rosco, the ex-pirate, on his back.
 
“Set me down now, my friend,” said Rosco, “you are far too good to me; and let me know what it is you have to say to me. You have quite roused my curiosity by your nods and mysterious manner. Out with it now, whatever it is.”
 
The negro had placed Rosco in such a position on a ledge¹⁰ of rock that he could see the lagoon and the ship at anchor.
 
The ex-pirate had by that time recovered some of his former strength, and, although there rested on his countenance¹¹ an air of profound sadness, there mingled¹² with it a hue¹³ of returning health, which none who saw him land had expected to see again. But the care of gentle hands and the power of gladsome emotions had wrought¹⁴ miraculously¹⁵ on the man, body and soul.
 
“I’s heerd massa an’ Cappin Fizzroy talkin’ about you,” said the negro, crossing his arms on his chest and regarding his questioner with a somewhat quizzical expression.
 
“Ha! I thought so. I am wanted, eh?”
 
“Well, yis, you’s wanted, but you’s not getted yet—so far as I knows.”
 
“Ah! Ebony,” returned Rosco, shaking his head, “I have long expected it, and now I am prepared to meet my deserved fate like a man—I may humbly¹⁸ say, a Christian¹⁹ man, thanks to God the Saviour²⁰ and Zeppa the instrument. But, tell me, what did the commander of the man-of-war say?”
 
“What did he say? Well, I’s tell you. Fust he hoed into massa’s house an’ shook hands with missis, also wid Missis Waroonga wot happined to be wid her, an’ hims so frindly dat he nigh shookt de bonnit off her head. Den²¹ dey talk ’bout good many t’ings, an’ after a while de cappin turn full on massa, an say,—
 
“‘I’s told Missr Zeppa dat you’s got dat willain Rosco de pirit here.’
 
“Ho! you should hab see poor massa’s face how it grow long, I most t’ink it also grow a leetil pale, an’ missis she give a squeak²² what she couldn’t help, an’ Betsy she giv’ a groan²³ an’ jump up, slap on hers bonnit, back to de front, an’ begin to clar out, but de cappin jump up an’ stop her. ‘Many apologies,’ ses de hipperkrit ‘for stoppin’ a lady, but I don’t want any alarm given. You know dat de pirit’s life am forfitid to his country, so ob course you’ll gib him up.’”
 
“And what said Zeppa to that?” asked Rosco eagerly.
 
“I’s just a-goin’ to tell you, massa. You see I’s in de back kishen at de time an’ hear ebery word. ‘Well,’ ses massa, awful slow an’ unwillin’ like, ‘I cannot deny that Rosco is in the island, but I do assure you, sir, that he is quite unable to do any furder mischief²⁴ to any one, for—an massa stop all of a suddint.’
 
“‘Well,’ ses de cappin, ‘why you not go on?’
 
“‘Has you a description of him?’ he asked.
 
“‘Oh! yes,’ ses de cappin, drawin’ out a paper an’ readin’ it. De bery ting, as like you it was as two pease, even to de small mole²⁵ on side ob you’s nose, but it say not’ing ’bout you’s feet. Clarly he nebber heerd ob dat an’ massa he notice dat, seems to me, for he ses, ‘Well, Cappin Fizzerald, it may be your duty to seize dis pirit and deliber him up to justice, but it’s no duty ob mine to help you.’
 
“‘Oh! as to dat,’ ses de cappin, ‘I’ll easily find him widout your assistance. I have a party of men with me, and no one knows or even suspects de reason ob my visit. But all of you who now hear me mus’ promise not to say a word about this matter till my search is over. I believe you to be an honourable²⁶ Christian man, Zeppa, who cannot break his word; may these ladies be relied on?’
 
“‘Dey may,’ ses massa, in a voice ob woe²⁷ dat a’most made me cry. So w’en I hear dat I tink’s to myself, ‘oh! you British hipperkrit, you’s not so clebber as you t’inks, for Ebony’s got to wind’ard ob you,’ an’ wid dat I slips out ob do back winder an’ run to you’s cottage, an’ ask if you’d like to have a ride on my back as usual, an’ you say yis, an’—now you’s here, an’ I dessay de cappin’s lookin’ for you.”
 
“It is very kind of you, Ebony,” said Rosco, with a deep sigh and a shake of the head, “very kind, both of you and Zeppa, but your efforts cannot now avail me. Just consider. If the description of me possessed²⁸ by Captain Fitzgerald is as faithful and minute as you say, the mere²⁹ absence of my feet could not deceive him. Besides, when I am found, if the commander of the man-of-war asks me my name I will not deny it, I will give myself up.”
 
“But if you do dey will hang you!” said Ebony in a somewhat exasperated³⁰ tone.
 
“Even so. It is my fate—and deserved.”
 
“But it would be murder to hang a innercent man what’s bin⁹ reformed, an’ don’t mean for to do no more mischief—not on’y so, but can’t!”
 
“I fear you won’t get the broken law to look at it in that light, Ebony.”
 
“Broken law! what does I care for de broken law? But tell me, massa, hab you make up you’s mind to gib youself up?”
 
“I have,” returned Rosco sadly.
 
“Quite sure an’ sartin’?”
 
“Quite,” returned Rosco, with a faint smile at the poor negro’s persistency³¹.
 
“Well, den, you come an’ hab a last ride on my back. Surely you no kin¹⁶ refuse so small a favour to dis yar black hoss w’ats carried you so of in, afore you die!”
 
“Of course not, my poor fellow! but to what purpose—of what use will it be to delay matters? It will only prolong the captain’s search needlessly.”
 
“Oh! nebber mind. Der’s good lot o’ huts in de place to keep de hipperkrit goin’. Plenty ob time for a last leetil ride. Besides, I want you to see a place I diskiver not long ago—most koorious place—you nebber see.”
 
“Come along, then,” said Rosco, thinking it right to humour one who had been more like a brother than a servant to him during his long illness, “stoop down. Now, then, heave!”
 
In a twinkling Rosco was on the back of his “black horse,” which carried him a considerable distance in among the hills.
 
“Ah! Ebony,” said the rider at last, “I feel sure you are deceiving me—that you hope to conceal³² me here, but it is of no use, I tell you, for I won’t remain concealed³³.”
 
“No, massa, I not deceive you. I bring you here to show you de stronary place I hab diskiver, an ax you what you t’ink ob him.”
&nbs............