. . .I am but doing my duty," rejoined the officer, though with considerably less affectation.

"Then do it. Conduct us to Colonel Goring. I am indebted to you for your good services, Captain whatever your name may be, but I tell you plainly I like not your style."

"Chaloner is my name," said the other haughtily.

"And mine, since you have so far unbended, is Nicholas Firestone, holding His Majesty's commission as colonel. Perchance, Captain Chaloner, my name is not wholly unfamiliar to you?"

Instantly the other's manner underwent a complete change.

"A thousand pardons," he exclaimed, "though, by the manner of your arrival, I was misled."

And, ordering three of his men to dismount, he offered their steeds to Firestone, Granville, and me.

By this time the rebel boat had picked up the crew of her unfortunate consort, and, heavily laden, was slowly making her way back to the nearest man-of-war, still under fire from t. . . Read More