Sustained honor: The Age of Liberty Established

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE ENGLISHMAN'S DILEMMA.

  Morgianna Lane was the brightest gem in the little Maryland village. Theromantic mystery which enshrouded her birth seemed only to add to thecharm about her. Of course Fernando could not long be in the villagewithout learning that she was not the daughter of Captain Lane, buta sea waif.

  Frequently foundlings have some birth mark or scar about them, or thereis some letter or significant mark about their clothing by which inafter years they may be identified and their parentage made known; butin the case of Morgianna there was no probability of her identity everbeing discovered. Her plump little arms were utterly devoid of scar ormark; the clothes found upon the infant had no initial whatever, andwere cast aside, just as other worn-out garments.

  Fernando Stevens, in due time, called on Captain Lane, whom he found tobe as jolly an old Jack Tar as lives. He was greatly amused at theescapade of the student, but cautioned him against his Irish friend.

  "I have no doubt this Terrence Malone is a good, noble young fellow; buthe has too much native mischief in his composition, and will get youfrom one scrape into another with marvellous regularity. I don't meanthat you should cut him adrift; but though you sail in company with him,do not allow him to get too far windward of you. When you see he's goingto fly right into the teeth of some rash fate, get on the other tack,that's all. You did honorably, however, in fighting the duel withLieutenant Matson, even if he is my friend."

  "Is he your friend?"

  "Yes; his father and I shipped afore the mast when we were boystogether. When the war broke out, he entered the British navy while Iwent aboard a Yankee privateer. I am glad to say we never metin battle."

  Fernando felt himself growing just a little bit uneasy. He did not likethis friendship between the captain and Lieutenant Matson; and he couldsee that the old seaman was glad the lieutenant's wound was not fatal.

  What strange emotion stirred the Ohio student's soul, when he met thesoft eyes of Morgianna, words cannot express. She talked on a variety ofsubjects, and at times Fernando flattered himself that she was pleasedto have him with her; but the next moment he reasoned that it might beonly her good breeding which made her appear to tolerate him. Fernandowas not foolish enough to be conceited. He lived in hope and doubt andwas the happiest man at times, and at others the most miserable. Thoughhe took Sukey into his confidence, Fernando was a little shyof Terrence.

  The reader will remember that Terrence had, on entering the village,suggested the propriety of going under assumed names. Fernando hadforgotten, if he ever knew, that he was registered at the tavern as Mr.Phil. Magrew of Hartford, and that good, innocent Sukey was GeorgeMolesworth, while Terrence was Larry O'Connor, a name quite in keepingwith his nationality. A ludicrous mistake, which came near being fatalto Fernando's respectability at Mariana, resulted from this incident.

  They had been a week at the tavern, and Fernando, who had lived athousand years of alternating bliss and agony in that short period, wassitting in the bar-room in front of a great roaring fire, which thechill evening of early autumn made comfortable, utterly oblivious of thegrumbling of the landlord, who was saying:

  "When people stay a whole week 'thout any luggage, it be high time theypay up. I wonder Mr. Magrew don't take notice on't."

  The supposed Mr. Magrew, however, did not hear what he said. He wasgazing into the blazing fire, weaving bright pictures from which theeyes of Morgianna seemed gazing at him. Fernando had forgotten theacademy, home, parents and all in this new inspiration. Terrence andSukey entered while the landlord was still grumbling and looking hard atFernando, who was utterly oblivious of his wrath.

  "Mister Magrew, be ye a man o' honor?" demanded mine host; but "Mr.Magrew" was as indifferent as a statue of stone. "The wagabond sitsthere an' hears himself abused an' be too heedless to answer. By themass, I will even tweak his nose! Magrew--Magrew--I'll wake you!"

  All the while Terrence, Sukey, and everybody else was wondering whom theenraged landlord meant. Suddenly Terrence recollected that he hadregistered Fernando under the name of Philip Magrew. He hastened to meetthe landlord before he reached Fernando, and thus prevented a collision,which would have been violent indeed.

  "Me frind, the honorable Misthur Magrew, is hard o' hearing," explainedthe Irishman in an undertone.

  "Be hard o' hearin'? then he be hard o' payin' too," answered thelandlord. "He 'ave been a whole veek in my 'ouse and not one pickyunne'ave paid."

  "Lave all to me," said the Irishman in his conciliatory manner, gentlyleading the landlord to another part of the room. "Ye see me frind,knowing his infirmity, asked mesilf to pay all bills for Misthur Magrew,and he gave me the money, I clear forgot it, or I should have paid you."

  Then Terrence drew forth a well-filled purse, which greatly mollifiedthe landlord, and when all differences were squared, he was completelysatisfied, smiling and agreeable.

  Thus Fernando passed over a dangerous period in his life and never knewhow near he came having his nose pulled; nor did the landlord ever knowhow near he came to being knocked down for such an attempt.

  Morgianna had spoken on one occasion of the beauty of moonlight on theseashore, and Fernando was bold enough to ask the pleasure of rowingherself and father to the headlands some evening. She assented. The oldsailor had a friend visiting at his house, an old ex-sea-captain likehimself, and the four decided to make the voyage across the little bayand sit for an hour on the rocky promontory and listen to the "dashingwaves." Fernando willingly welcomed the acquaintance as a fourth to theparty, for he was shrewd enough to see that the old sailors would be sowholly engrossed with each other, that they would scarcely notice theyoung people, and Morgianna and he would be left quite to themselves.

  Fernando, though an amateur at the oar, would on no account be dissuadedfrom rowing the small boat to the promontory; and, having helpedMorgianna, who was lightest, into a seat in the bow (inexpressiblehappiness) he cheerfully took his seat at the oars with the old men inthe stern facing each other. Then the little craft was cast loose, andthe young westerner bent to his oars and sent the boat swiftly throughthe water. Of course Fernando's back was toward Morgianna, and he couldnot see her, save when he twisted his head "quite off," which he didfrequently; but he could hear her silvery voice humming snatches of asong, or her dimpled hand playing in the phosphorescent water whichsparkled like flashes of fire in their wake. The old men kept up acontinual talk, for which Fernando was exceedingly grateful. Finally thepromontory was gained, and in a quiet little cove Fernando beached hisboat and, springing out, took the small, white hand of Morgianna andassisted her to the dry sands, so gallantly that her dainty littleslippered foot did not touch the water.

  Then the whole party ascended the hill to the opposite side of thepromontory where the sea was beating furiously. Fernando was almostbeside himself with joy to find Morgianna clinging to his arm in theascent, and to hear her sweet voice in low, gentle tones breathing inhis ear. It was a fine, clear night, and for all her lowness of spirits,Morgianna kept looking up at the stars in a manner so bewitching thatFernando was clear out of his senses, and plainly showed that, if ever aman were over head and ears in love, that man was himself. The path theywere ascending was quite steep, and Fernando could not help glancing atthe pretty little hand, encased in a cream-colored kid glove, resting onhis arm. If Fernando had known that an executioner were behind him withan axe raised, ready to cut off his head if he touched that hand, hecould not have helped doing it. From putting his own right hand upon itas if by chance, and taking it away again after a minute or so, and thenputting it back again, he got to walking along without taking it off atall, as if he, the escort, were bound to do that as an important duty,and had come for that purpose. The most curious thing about this littleincident was, that Morgianna did not seem to know it. She looked soinnocent and unconscious when she turned her eyes on Fernando, that itwas quite provoking.

  She talked about the sea, the hills, the rocks, the sky, the stars
,while the old men went on ahead, and when she slipped on the verge of aprecipice three feet high and came near falling into a pool of dirtywater, and he saved her from the fall by his coolness and daring, shethanked him and told him how grateful she was that he was near, and hesaid something about how happy he would be to be always near her, toguard her footsteps along life's rugged pathway. Then she said somethingto the effect that it would be pleasant if one could always have one'sfriends near, and that she hoped they would always be friends from thattime forth. And when Fernando said, "not friends" he hoped, Morgiannawas quite surprised and said not enemies she hoped; and when Fernandosuggested that they might be something better than either, Morgianna,all of a sudden, found a star, which was brighter than all the otherstars, and begged to call his attention to the same, and was ten timesmore innocent and unconscious than ever.

  In this way, they journeyed up the steep ascent, talking very littleabove a whisper, and wishing that the promontory was a dozen timeshigher--at least, such was Fernando's wish--when they finally reachedthe top and saw the two old men under the lee cliff listening to theocean's hollow roar.

  Fernando carried a robe and some wraps for Morgianna, and he conductedher to a sheltered spot below the first ledge of rocks, where he spreada robe for her to sit on, and then, with loving fingers that thrilledwith each touch, adjusted the wraps about her shapely little shoulders.For a long time they sat listening to the wild roar of the angry watersbelow, gazing on the phosphorescent flashes, where the swelling wavesbroke in crested splendor on the well-worn rocks.

  He was first to break the silence.

  "Miss Lane," he said, "had I known that Lieutenant Matson was yourpersonal friend, I would have suffered disgrace rather thanencountered him."

  With a smile, she answered:

  "It all turned out right. The lieutenant was scarcely injured at all."

  "Have you heard of him?"

  "I have heard from him," she answered, glancing slyly at Fernando fromthe corners of her roguish eyes. "He wrote me a letter which Ireceived to-day."

  Fernando felt a pain at his heart, but it was nothing to compare withthe shame and mortification which followed. She informed him thatLieutenant Matson was so slightly wounded, that his seconds decided on asecond fire, and sent a boat to inform them as they had left the beach,but that, although they chased the Americans for miles, they could notbring them back. Fernando was stunned by the information, and filledwith mortification and chagrin.

  "Do you think I am afraid to meet him again?" he asked, his voicetrembling with ill-suppressed excitement.

  "I don't know; but you won't, anyway--you are both my friends, and myfriends shall not fight."

  Fernando made no answer, but at that moment he would very much haveliked to knock her friend on the head. Of course a second meeting withthe Briton would now have been highly pleasing to the student; but itwas out of the question. The hour on the promontory was passed inalternating bliss and misery, and when the time came to return, he wasno nearer the subject dearest of all subjects than before.

  He hastened back to the tavern, where he found his Irish friend playingcards with the landlord and winning several weeks' board in advance.

  "Terrence, it is a fine fix you got me in by hurrying away from thesands so soon that morning," he said angrily, when he got him tohis room.

  "Why, me boy, what d'ye mane?"

  "That lieutenant was only slightly wounded, and that boat was chasing usto bring us back for another shot."

  "So ye've heard it at last, me frind?"

  "Certainly I have, and now I will be branded as a coward."

  "Lave it all to me. The Britishers are in trouble enough. Sure, haven'tye read the Baltimore papers? Captain Conkerall is to be tried by acourt-martial for gettin' bastely drunk and goin' abroad with no garmentbut his shirt, and a sheet with a hole in it." Terrence laughed untilthe tears trickled down his cheeks. Fernando could not see how he couldhelp fighting the lieutenant again if he demanded satisfaction; but theIrishman was quite sure the lieutenant would have enough to do to keephis captain out of his dilemma. Sukey, who had entered during theirconversation, said:

  "Oh, Fernando, why didn't you aim higher and blow his head off?"

  "Why did the lieutenant challenge me, when the captain was the injuredparty?" asked Fernando.

  Terrence explained that, while the Captain was really the injured party,it was a matter of courtesy that his officer lower in rank should takethe quarrel upon himself, more especially as Fernando had been hissuccessful rival at the ball. From this, the conversation gradually ledto Morgianna herself, and Terrence laughed and winked; and calledFernando a lucky dog.

  "Go in, me boy, and if ye nade any help, I am at hand."

  "I fear I have injured my prospects there," said Fernando.

  "How?"

  "By the duel. Lieutenant Matson is an old friend of the captain, and Ibelieve a suitor for the hand of his daughter. What show has a schoolboyagainst a lieutenant in the English navy?--none."

  "Yes he has," declared Terrence.

  "What show can he have?"

  "Lave it all to me, me frind, and I will bring ye out all right, see ifI don't."

  "I have left too many things to you, Terrence, and you have a mostremarkable faculty for getting me into trouble."

  Terrence assured him that he would yet aid him to outgeneral theEnglishman, and he only wished that he might come into port duringtheir stay.

  "Terrence, you must take no advantage of the public hatred of theEnglish to accomplish your purpose. Remember, Lieutenant Matson is theson of Captain Lane's friend. You might raise a mob and have him drivenaway; but I will not consent to it."

  "Indade, I don't mane it, me boy. Lave it to me. If he comes ashore,faith, we'll out-gineral him, sure."

  Next day there came letters for the runaways. Terrence's father, beingwealthy and influential, had gone to Baltimore, interceded with thefaculty and had the runaway scapegraces retained. There were alsoletters from the parents of the young men, condemning, but at the timeforgiving and warning them to be more careful in the future.

  It was some distance by the road to Baltimore, and the boys decided totake passage in a coasting schooner which was loading with barley andwould be ready to go in three days.

  One morning, two days before their intended departure, Fernando, ongoing out upon the street, was surprised and really alarmed to see anEnglish man-of-war anchored in the little harbor of Marianna. Hisuneasiness was greatly increased on reading the name _Xenophon_ on thebroad pennant floating from the main mast. His enemy was in port, and hecould guess his object, especially when he saw Captain Lane's carriagewaiting on the sands while Lieutenant Matson was being rowed ashore.Fernando gnashed his teeth and there were some ugly thoughts inhis heart.

  Sukey who had come out hastened to his side and reading his thoughtssaid:

  "Now don't you wish you had aimed higher?"

  The citizens, noticing the approach of an English war vessel, began tocongregate in a large body on the north side of the village, and theirdemonstrations were decidedly hostile to the landing of the Briton.Suddenly Captain Lane appeared among them, waving his staff andshouting. Having gained their attention, the old sea-captain mounted thestile near the village store and said:

  "Shipmates and friends, the man coming ashore is the son of a man whom Iloved. I have sent my carriage down to bring him to my house where he isto be my guest. You have all heard me tell how his father saved my life.Would you injure him now, when he comes to pay me a friendly visit?" Ina short time the crowd dispersed, and Lieutenant Matson landed, enteredthe carriage and was driven to the house of Captain Lane.

  From the street, Fernando, with bitter feelings in his heart, saw thecarriage ascend the hill. He turned about and entered the tavern, wentto his room and shut himself up. Here he remained until the middle ofthe afternoon, when there came a knock at the door, and, on opening it,he was astonished to find one of the negroes of Captain Lane's house. Hewas
dressed in livery and held a note in his hand, which he gave to"Mistah Stevens," bowed politely and awaited his answer.

  The utter amazement of Fernando can better be imagined than describedat finding the note from Miss Morgianna Lane inviting himself and hisfriends to tea that evening with themselves, Lieutenant Matson andensign Post of his majesty's ship _Xenophon_. Had Fernando been summonedto a command in his majesty's navy, he could not have been moreastonished. He hesitated a moment and then decided to accept. ThisEnglishman should neither out-do him in generosity nor affrontery.Besides, the invitation came from Morgianna, and he could not refuse. Hewrote a polite answer, accepting the kind invitation and went to findSukey and Terrence. Sukey thought it would be a little odd for Fernandoto meet a man with whom he had exchanged shots; but Terrence declared itwas the only "dacint" thing to do. They were not "haythin," tobear grudges.

  Consequently they went. The minds of the Americans were filled withdoubt and perplexity, while the Irishman was chuckling at a plan hiscunning brain was evolving, and which he determined to put in execution.The Englishmen met the Americans very cordially, and Lieutenant Matson,who was every inch a gentleman, did not dare be other than genteel inthe presence of the lady he loved; for he was as passionately in lovewith Morgianna as was Fernando. The lieutenant was of a romantic turn ofmind, and the mystery of the sea waif had interested him. He was quitesure she was the daughter of some nobleman. He had read in romances somany cases similar to hers, that he could not believe this would turnout otherwise.

  When Fernando and the lieutenant had shaken hands and mutually agreed tobury all past differences, had they not been rivals they might havebecome friends, for each recognized in the other some qualities thatwere admirable.

  The beauty of a lovely woman is like music, rich in cadence and sweet inrhythm; but that beauty must be for one alone. It cannot, like music, beshared with others. The best of friends may, as rivals, become thebitterest foes. Fernando did not like the Englishman, for, with all hisblandness, he thought he could observe a pompous air andself-consciousness of superiority, disgusting to sensible persons. Thismight have been prejudice or the result of imagination, yet he realizedthat he was in the presence of an ambitious rival, who would go to anylength to gain his purpose.

  The most careful and disinterested observer could not have discoveredany preference on the part of Morgianna. When they came to the table,she had the lieutenant on one side and Fernando on the other. The oldcaptain at the head engrossed much of Lieutenant Matson's time talkingabout his father, greatly to the annoyance of the officer. When Matsoncame to take his seat at the table, Terrence, who sat on the oppositeside of the lieutenant, whispered:

  "Aisy!"

  The lieutenant bit his lips and his face flushed angrily, while Sukey,who sat on the opposite side of the Irishman, snickered, and Morgiannabit her pretty lip most cruelly in trying to conceal the merriment whichher roguish eyes expressed.

  This was the only break made by the Irishman that evening. He played hispart with consummate grace and had such a way of winning the favor ofpeople, that, before the evening was over, the Englishman actually cameto like him. He praised the country about Mariana, and talked of theharbors and islands, declaring he knew them all from Duck Island to theChesapeake. He found Lieutenant Matson somewhat of a sport, and sooninterested him in stories of duck shooting, all of which were inventionsof his own ingenious brain. Miss Morgianna praised the wild ducks ofMaryland and thought their flesh equal to English Capons. Thelieutenant, in his gallantry, vowed she should have half a dozen braceof fowls before he left, and Terrence volunteered to assist him.

  Fernando was amazed at the course of his friend. The man-of-war was tosail the same day their schooner did, and he had just determined, by theaid of Terrence, to bag five dozen brace of ducks for the belle ofMariana, when his friend went boldly over to the enemy.

  "I'll give it to him, when I get a chance," he thought.

  There was only one more night in which they could shoot ducks, andTerrence was engaged for that occasion. Fernando sighed and ground histeeth in rage and disappointment, while Morgianna, with Sukey on oneside and Ensign Post on the other, went to a large Broadwood piano,where she soon entertained all with her music.

  As they went to their tavern that night, Fernando said:

  "A nice way you have treated me, Terrence, you who profess to be myfriend."

  "What the divil ails the boy?" asked Terrence.

  "You have volunteered to aid the lieutenant go ducking--"

  "Aisy me boy! While the lieutenant is after ducks, lose no time with thegirl. Don't ye see I'm getting him out of yer way?"

  Fernando had not thought of it in that light. On the next evening, thelast they were to spend at Mariana, the lieutenant was rowed ashoreattired for sporting, with top-boots and a double-barrelled fowlingpiece. Terrence, who claimed to be an experienced hunter, advised him to"kape their intintions sacrit," as too many might want to go, and thatwould spoil the sport. Ducks could best be hunted after night. He wouldshow him how it was done.

  It was almost dark, when they set off in a small rowboat for DuckIsland, and twenty minutes later Fernando was on his way to his farewellvisit to Morgianna.

  The sun had set, but it was not yet dark when Fernando reached the broadpiazza. He asked himself if she would be at home or away. He had saidnothing of his coming. This visit was wholly on his own account. He hadwalked up and down the piazza two or three times, when through the opendoor he caught the flutter of a garment on the stairway. It wasMorgianna's--to whom else could it belong? No dress but hers had such aflow as that. He gathered up courage and followed it into the hallway.

  His darkening the door, into which the sombre shadows of twilight werealready creeping, caused her to look around. "Oh that face! If it hadn'tbeen for that," thought Fernando, "I could never have faced the Briton.She is twenty times handsomer than ever. She might marry a Lord!"

  He didn't say this. He only thought it--perhaps looked it also.Morgianna was glad to see him and was _so_ sorry her father was awayfrom home. Fernando begged she would not worry herself on any account.

  Morgianna hesitated to lead the way into the parlor, for there it wasnearly dark. At the same time she hesitated to stand talking in thehall, which was tolerably light from the open door. They still stood inthe hall in an embarrassing position, Fernando holding her hand in his(which he had no right to do, for Morgianna had only given it to him toshake), and yet both hesitated to go or stay anywhere.

  "I have come," said Fernando, "to say good-bye--to say good-bye, for Idon't know how many years; perhaps forever. I am going away."

  Now this was exactly what he should not have said. Here he was, talkinglike a gentleman at large, who was free to come and go and roam aboutthe world at his pleasure, when he had expressed both in actions andwords that Miss Lane held him in adamantine chains.

  Morgianna released her hand and said:

  "Indeed!"

  She remarked in the same breath that it was a fine night and, in short,betrayed not the least emotion. With despair still settling over hisheart, Fernando said:

  "I couldn't go without coming to see you. I hadn't the heart to."

  Morgianna was more sorry than she could tell that he had taken thetrouble. It was a long walk up the hill, and as he was to sail next day,he must have a deal to do; as if she did not know that he had notbrought even a trunk with him. Then she wanted to know how Mr. Winnerswas and Mr. Malone. She thought the Irishman a capital good fellow, andwas sure no one could help liking him.

  "Is this all you have to say?" Fernando asked.

  All! Good gracious, what did the man expect? She was obliged to take herapron in her hand and run her eyes along the hem from corner to corner,to keep herself from laughing in his face;--not because his gazeconfused her--not at all.

  This was Fernando's first experience in love affairs, and he had no ideahow different young ladies are at different times. He had expected a fardifferent scene from the one w
hich was being enacted. All day long hehad buoyed himself up with an indistinct idea that she would certainlysay, "Don't go," or "Don't leave us," or "Why do you go?" or "Why do youleave us?" or would give him some little encouragement of that sort. Hehad even entertained the possibility of her bursting into tears, of herthrowing herself into his arms, or falling down in a fainting fit,without previous word or sign; but any approach to such a line ofconduct as this was evidently so far from her thoughts, that he couldonly look at her in silent wonder. The hated English rival had won herheart, and she was even glad he was going; yet it was so hard togive her up.

  Morgianna, in the meanwhile, turned to the corners of her apron andmeasured the sides, and smoothed out the wrinkles, and was as silent ashe. At last, after a long pause, he said good-bye.

  "Good-bye," answered Morgianna with as pleasant a smile as if he wereonly going for a row on the water and would return after supper;"good-bye."

  "Come," said Fernando, putting out his hands, "Morgianna, dearMorgianna, let us not part like this. I love you dearly, with all myheart and soul, with as much sincerity and truth as man ever lovedwoman. I am only a poor student; but in this new world every thing ispossible. You have it in your power to make me a grand and noble man, orcrush from this heart every ambitious hope. You are wealthy, beautiful,admired, loved by everybody and happy;--may you ever be so! Heavenforbid I should ever make you otherwise; but give me one word ofcomfort. Say something kind to me. I have no right to expect it of you,I know; but I ask it because I love you, and I shall treasure theslightest word from you all through my life. Morgianna, dearest, haveyou nothing to say to me?"

  No, nothing. Morgianna was a coquette by nature, and a spoilt child. Shehad no notion of being carried off by storm in this way. Fernando had nobusiness to be going away. Besides, if he really loved her, why did henot fall on his knees like lovers in romance or on the stage, and tugwildly at his cravat, or talk in a wild, poetic manner?

  "I have said good-bye twice," said Morgianna. "Take your arm away, or Iwill call some one."

  "I will not reproach you," Fernando sadly answered. "It's no doubt myfault," he added with a sigh. "I have thought sometimes that you did notquite despise me; but I was a fool to do so. Every one must, who hasseen the life I have led of late--you most of all, for it was he atwhose life I aimed. God bless you!"

  He was gone, actually gone. She waited a little while, thinking he wouldreturn, peeped out of the door, looked down the broad carriage drive aswell as the increasing darkness would allow, saw a hastily retreatingshadow melt into the general gloom, came in again, waited a littlelonger, then went up to her room, bolted herself in, threw herself onher bed and cried as if her heart would break.

  * * * * *

  Meanwhile, Terrence Malone and the lieutenant, Fernando's rival, wererowing toward Duck Island fire or six miles away. The island wasreached. It was a dismal affair little more than an elevated marsh. Whenthe tide was out on Duck Island, its extended dreariness was potent. Itsspongy, low-lying surface, sluggish, inky pools and tortuous sloughs,twisting their slimy way, eel-like, toward the open bay were all hardfacts. Occasionally, here and there, could be seen a few green tussocks,with their scant blades, their amphibious flavor and unpleasantdampness. And if you chose to indulge your fancy, although the flatmonotony of Duck Island was not inspiring, the wavy line of scattereddrift gave an unpleasant consciousness of the spent waters and made thecertainty of the returning tide a gloomy reflection, which sunshinecould not wholly dissipate. The greener salt meadows seemed oppressedwith this idea and made no positive attempt at vegetation. In the lowbushes, one might fancy there was one sacred spot not wholly spoiled bythe injudicious use of too much sea water.

  The vocal expressions of Duck Island were in keeping with its generalappearance, melancholy and depressing. The sepulchral boom of thebittern, the shriek of the curlew, the scream of the passing brent, thewrangling of quarrelsome teal, the sharp, querulous protest of thestartled crane, were all beyond powers of written expression. The aspectof these mournful fowls was not at all cheerful or inspiring, as theboat containing the Irishman and lieutenant approached the island.Through the gathering gloom of night could be seen a tall blue heron,standing midleg deep in water, obviously catching cold in his recklessdisregard for wet feet and consequences. The mournful curlew, thedejected plover and the low-spirited snipe, who sought to join him inhis suicidal contemplations, the raven, soaring through the air onrestless wings, croaking his melancholy complaints were not calculatedto add to the cheerfulness of the scene.

  [ILLUSTRATION: He sat down on a broken mast.]

  It was evident that even the inhabitants of Duck Island were not happyin its possession and looked forward with pleasure to the season ofmigration.

  The boat touched the north shore, and Lieutenant Matson jumped out inmud up to his knees, frightening some wild fowls which flew screamingaway. The Englishman gave vent to some strong language, and desired toknow if there was not a better landing place. Terrence assured him therewas not, and complained that ducks never sought a "dacint place" fortheir habitation. Nothing but the glorious reflection that he was makinghimself a martyr for Morgianna's sake could have induced the officer totake the torches and wade to the low bushes, where he was instructed tomake a light and wait until his companion rowed around the island anddrove the ducks in great flocks to the light, which he assured theBriton would attract them, and they would fall at his feet as if beggingto be bagged.

  Slowly the officer waded through the dismal marsh to the higher land,where grew the low bushes, and by the use of his tinder box kindled alight and, wrapping his boat cloak about him, sat down on a broken mast,which some storm had driven to the highest part of the island.

  The minutes passed on, and neither the Irishman nor the expected flockof birds came. Minutes grew into hours, and only the sobbing waves andmelancholy cries of birds broke the silence. Surely something hadhappened to his companion. About midnight a dense fog settled over theisland, and the alarm and discomfiture of the Englishman becamesupreme. At one moment he was cursing Terrence, and the next offeringprayer for his soul. Never did man pass a more dreary night.

  At last dawn came, and he could see, far across the water, his ship buta speck in the distance. It was to sail that forenoon, and he intendedto call on Morgianna and propose; but here he was on this infernalisland, hungry, damp and miserable. He knew the vessel would pass nearenough for him to hail it and have a boat sent for him; but then hewould miss his intended visit to Captain Lane's, and his futurehappiness depended on that visit.

  While he was indulging in these bitter reflections, a schooner suddenlyflew past the island, and, to his amazement, he saw the Irish student,Terrence Malone, whom he had been alternately praying for and cursingall night, standing on the deck apparently in the best of health andspirits. The scoundrel even had the audacity to wave him an adieu ashe passed.