“No, you do not; but it is not a pleasant thing to anticipate, and I should not have spoken of it. Why harrow ourselves with what may not happen at all?”
“Why, indeed. Yes, I was at the ball. How did you know?”
“I didn’t know, positively; I promised to find out. I judged from the description given me by one who saw you that it might be you whom my cousin, Ellicott Baldwin, met.”
“Is he a naval officer? A young man? Yes, I see, it is you of whom he reminded me. Did he tell you—Oh, Tyler, I hope he didn’t think me a forward piece. I spoke to him in a moment of excitement, not realizing that he was a stranger. How came he to mention it?”
“He was most desirous of discovering who you were. He could not learn your name, and the best he could do was to find out the names of your companions. When he told me who they were, and described you, I was able to tell him that I was almost certain that the lady of his fancy was none other than Miss Lettice Hopkins, of Queen Anne’s County. Do not trouble yourself over having met him in so chance a way; he has only admiration for you, and spoke of you in a most respectful manner. He told me of your meeting, and some day—Heavens! what is that?”
They both started up, for the boat was now opposite North Point, and they saw bearing down upon them several small vessels belonging to the enemy’s squadron which lay just within the mouth of the river. Soon followed a scene of confusion. Becky Lowe fell fainting into James’s arms. Lettice, with pale face and imploring eyes, clung close to Tyler Baldwin. “What will they do?” she whispered. “Shall you have to fight?”
“It would do little good, and so I think the captain will conclude. In such a case discretion is the better part of valor. The captain, for the sake of all concerned, will probably submit with the best grace he can summon. We are not prepared for a battle.” And the event proved the truth of his words.
“We are prisoners,” said Tyler, after returning to her from a tour of investigation. “All we have to do is to make the best of it. They are preparing to put us under guard, and are helping themselves to whatever they can find.”
Becky had recovered sufficiently to sit sobbing by James’s side. He was trying to comfort her, and looked pleadingly at his sister, that she might understand that her assistance would be appreciated.
“Come, Becky,” said Lettice, in quiet tones, “there is no use fussing over the matter. We may be thankful that we are not hurt, and that there is not going to be any fighting. I think we should submit with dignity, and show them what stuff American girls are made of.” But Becky was not to be comforted at once and continued weeping hysterically.