Sustained honor Part 36

"Yes, Job."

"De ship what am goin' ter bombard dat town am de _Xenophon_."

"_Xenophon_!" cried Fernando; "surely Providence must be in this."

Job volunteered at once to accompany the riflemen, and, having some knowledge of gunnery, his services were very acceptable.

At dusk, with competent guides, Fernando set out for the village.

Five years had been added to the weight with which time was crushing Captain Lane; but his spirit was still as undaunted as ever, and when he found the town threatened by a British cruiser, he hastily organized the people into militia companies, and began throwing up a line of earthworks, which extended from his own house to the lowest extremity of the village.

The plan of the breastwork was well laid and executed; but the artillery was poorly mounted and they were sadly in need of experienced gunners.

"Father, don't exert yourself until you are sick!" said Morgianna, when her father came home one evening exhausted. "Surely, if the British come, they will not harm us."

"My child, the plunderers have sacked other towns and insulted the inhabitants, and why not ours?"

"But no ship is in sight."

"No; yet one has been hovering about the coast and Tris Penrose, who was far out in his fishing smack to reconnoitre, says it is the _Xenophon_."

"The _Xenophon_!" and the pretty face grew pale. She remembered that that vessel, five years before, had paid the village a friendly visit.

Captain Lane was watching her closely. She knew it and guessed the reason. After a moment's silence, she asked:

"Father, isn't Lieutenant Matson on the _Xenophon_?"

"I suppose he is."

"Surely he is your friend."

"In war there are no friends among the enemy, child, and no enemy among friends. We are simply Americans or British."

"Yet, father, there are personal ties stronger than loyalty to nation or political party."

The old man heard her argument with evident anxiety. He loved his little sea-waif as ardently as ever father loved a child, and for five years he fancied and feared she loved the lieutenant of the _Xenophon_.

"True, child, you speak the truth, yet my heart tells me that we cannot trust to friendship now, seeing that this quarrel has grown so bitter."

He was sorry to say this, for he felt that every word he uttered was like a dagger at the heart of Morgianna. After a painful silence, the old, white-haired seaman added, "Forgive me, Morgianna; but I am an old man, and I may not look at things as you do. I love my country and her flag. I have seen our poor sailors too often enslaved to be a friend to any Englishman while the war lasts."

"What do you mean, father?"

"You love him, Morgianna. I felt it, I knew it all along, but I couldn't help it. I knew I ought to do something, but, child, I didn't know what to do. If you had had a mother she could have advised you, but I didn't."

"Father, you talk so strangely; what do you mean?"

"I knew all along, my child, that you loved him; but Lieutenant Matson is a bad one, even if he is the son of my old friend. I could see the devil glinting in his eyes, and the mock of his smile, when he met the young Ohioan here five years ago. He's a bad man accompanied with foul weather wherever he goes, and I know it just so long as I know the cat's paw, the white creeping mist, like a dirty thing which makes me cry out to my crew, 'All hands to reef! Quick! All hands to reef!'" The old man was silent for a moment, smoking his pipe, while his eyes were on the floor. Had he looked up, he would have seen a decidedly mischievous look in the face of Morgianna, which certainly did not indicate that she was seriously affected. After a few moments, without looking up, the old man with a sigh continued:

"Ah, my little maid, if you could only have listened a bit to the n.o.ble Ohioan;--if it could have been him instead of Matson, love and patriotism could have gone hand in hand. The night we went to the cliff, I thought you did like him; but it was not to be. 'Tis dreadful!

dreadful! why did G.o.d make woman so? Poor Fernando; there was good love going a-begging and getting nothing for it but a frown and a hard word; while--" he did not finish the sentence, for a pair of white arms were put around his neck, and a voice as sweet as the rippling music of the hillside brook said:

"Never fret yourself, father, for Morgianna loves you first of all and best of all," and she slipped on his knee and kissed away the anxious cloud gathering on his brow. The old man was quite overcome by this caress, and before he could make any answer there came a heavy tread on the piazza, a heavy knock, and a moment later a servant announced, Tris Penrose and John Burrel. They were admitted and Penrose, who had made another reconnoisance that afternoon in his fishing yacht, said:

"Aw, captain, I be just returned, and having somewhat of importance to impart I came to tell you."

Captain Lane asked the Cornish fisherman to be seated and asked:

"What have you seen, Tris?"

"You see, captain, it be like this. I be out at sea beyond the bay, and I see a great ship beating up in the bay against wind and tide, and I watch her for a long time as she do go first on one tack and then on the other, until I make sure she be heading for Mariana, and I hasten to tell, with all sail."

Burrel explained that from the farthest point of Duck Island the vessel had been sighted, and that there was no longer any question of her destination. Captain Lane rose to go down to the village, where the greatest excitement prevailed. Turning to Morgianna, he asked:

"Will you be afraid to remain here, my gem o' the sea?"

"No, father."

The captain went and quieted the people. A strong breeze was blowing from the land, and he knew full well that the _Xenophon_ could not possibly come near enough to harm them for several hours. He gave some directions concerning the strengthening of the fort, and went home and retired to bed.

Next morning the ship-of-war, the _Xenophon_ was reported lying without the harbor, and at noon, being unable, owing to contrary winds, to enter the harbor, they saw her long-boats landing troops on the northern point of land. Soldiers to the number of two hundred were landed on the point of land, which, two miles north of Duck Island, projected far out into the sea and was called O'Connor's Point. Mariana was situated on a peninsula from half a mile to two miles wide and the troops hurried to the narrowest neck of this peninsula where they halted and proceeded to throw up light earthworks, so as to completely cut off all retreat of the inhabitants.

That evening some officers and a marine guard with a white flag were seen coming down the great road leading from the neck of the peninsula to the mainland and thence to Baltimore. Many of the inhabitants recognized Lieutenant Matson before he came to the fort. They were halted and asked what they wanted.

Lieutenant Matson stated that it was his wish to see Captain Lane.

Mounting the earthworks, Captain Lane asked:

"Do you come in peace or in war?"

"In peace."

"Then, as the son of an old friend, you are welcome. You can send back your guard and flag of truce, for I am sufficient surety for your safety."

The lieutenant told his guard to retire, while he went over the parapet and ascended the hill to the great white house. Lieutenant Matson was very grave and silent, when they reached the house, which was lighted, for it was now growing dark. Captain Lane asked his visitor to be seated and said:

"Now, Lieutenant Matson, you may proceed with your business."

A pair of soft, dark eyes were fixed on them from a door which was slightly ajar, and even the darkness seemed lighter from the glow of golden hair. The lieutenant's back was toward this room, and he did not see the beautiful, anxious face and roguish eyes. Lieutenant Matson, after a brief silence, said:

"Captain Lane, I am come on a matter of business in which friendship and regard are mingled. Believe me that, had it not been for my great esteem for yourself and Morgianna, I should have sent an under officer with my message instead of bringing it myself."

Captain Lane bowed and hoped that Lieutenant Matson would not allow friendship to stand in the way of duty. Lieutenant Matson continued:

"First, I have come, captain, to demand of you the surrender of this post,--that is, of all the government stores in it, a.s.suring you that private property shall not be molested, and the men in arms shall be treated as prisoners of war."

Without a moment's hesitation, the old sea captain answered: