violence had subsided, he felt that our hero had done him a real service, and had prevented him from committing an act of egregious folly; and yet he had summoned this friend to meet him in the field—and such had been his gratitude. He would have given the world to recall what had passed, and to make friends, but he felt ashamed, as most people do, to acknowledge his error; he had, however, almost made up his mind to it, and was walking up and down thinking in what manner he might contrive it, when Jack, who was sitting, as usual, in a chair by the capstern, with his porter by him, said to himself, “Now I’ll lay my life that Ned wants to make friends, and is ashamed to speak first; I may be mistaken, and he may fly off at a tangent, but even if I am, at all events, it will not be I who am wrong—I’ll try him.” Jack waited till Gascoigne passed him again, and then said, looking kindly and knowingly in his face,

“I say, Ned, will you have a glass of porter?”

Gascoigne smiled, and Jack held out his hand; the reconciliation was effected in a moment, and the subject of quarrel was not canvassed by either party.

“We shall be at Minorca in a day or two,” observed Jack, after a while; “now I shall be glad to get there. Do you know, Ned, that I feel very much satisfied with myself; I have got into no scrape this time, and I shall, notwithstanding, have a good story to tell the governor when I go to Malta.”

“Partly at my expense,” replied Gascoigne.

“Why, you will figure a little in it, but others will figure much more.”

“I wonder what has become of that poor girl,” observed Gascoigne, who could not refrain from mentioning her; “what hurts me most is, that she must think me such a brute.”

“No doubt of that, Ned—take another glass of porter.”

“Her father gave me this large diamond.”

“The old goat—sell it, and drink his health with it.”

“No, I’ll keep it in memory of his daughter.”

Here Gascoigne fell into a melancholy reverie, and Jack thought of Agnes.

In two days they arrived at Mahon, and found the Aurora already there, in the command of Captain Wilson. Mr. Hicks had persuaded Captain Hogg to furnish him with clothes, Jack having taken off the injunction as soon as he had quitted the admiral. Mr. Hicks was aware, that if the admiral would not listen to his complaint, it was no use speaking to a captain: so he remained on board a pensioner upon Captain Hogg, and after our midshipmen quitted the transport they became very good friends. Mr. Hicks consented to the match, and Captain Hogg was made happy. As for poor Azar, she had wandered about until she was tired, in Miss Hicks’s dress, and at last returned brokenhearted to her father’s, and was admitted by Abd el Faza himself; he imagined it was Miss Hicks, and was in transports—he discovered it was his daughter, and he was in a fury. The next day she went to the Zenana of Osman Ali.

When Jack reported himself he did not tell the history of the elopements, that he might not hurt the feelings of Gascoigne. Captain Wilson was satisfied with the manner in which he had executed his orders, and asked him “whether he preferred staying in the Harpy, or following him into the Aurora.”

Jack hesitated.

“Speak frankly, Mr. Easy; if you prefer Captain Sawbridge to me, I shall not be affronted.”

“No, sir,” replied Easy, “I do not prefer Captain Sawbridge to you; you have both been equally kind to me, but I prefer you. But the fact is, sir. that I do not much like to part with Gascoigne, or—”