"Ah!" ejaculated Ricardo, as he called himself, with a quick indrawing of his breath, as though what I had said had hurt him, though how it should have done so was quite inexplicable.  "I could have sworn it! Lucy Carew!  Boy, you are the living image of your mother!  I recognised the likeness the moment that we came face to face, when you boarded us; and I have three times spared your life on that account--twice while the fight was in progress, and again when my people would have heaved your still breathing body to the sharks!"