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 would allow him, while Ralph was taking an affectionate leave of his beloved ship-mates.

"Here you are, Ralph," he said, handing him the loaded pistol. "Bless you, my boy. Be cool and aim straight. It—it'll be soon over!"

And the brawny seaman fairly sobbed like a girl.

"My friends," said Ralph, "for the last time, farewell! And when I am dead convey my respectful compliments to Miss Josephine and tell her that she's done it and I hope she likes it."

So saying, he placed the pistol to his head while all the crew stopped their ears, for if there was one thing they hated more than another, it was the bang of an exploding fire-arm.

But you will be surprised to hear that Ralph was not to die just then. Josephine, who had been watching all this through her cabin window (which looked on to the quarter deck), couldn't stand it any longer. Forgetting her family pride, her brilliant prospects, and even her promise to her papa, she rushed out and flung herself into Ralph's arms with a shriek in which devoted love, acute anguish, humbled pride, wild determination, and maidenly reserve were perceptibly blended. She had often practised this shriek, so as to have it ready for emergencies,