“Yes—I am. And yourself? Your name is German; yet you speak English like a native.”
“I am a native American of German descent,” answered Justin.
“A native American, are you?—of the North, or the South?” inquired the stranger, pointedly.
“Of the South,” replied Justin, rather reservedly, and feeling that the tables were being turned upon him, and that from the questioner he was again becoming the questioned.
“Of the South! So am I. Give me your hand again. We shall be friends, I am sure!” warmly exclaimed the red-bearded captain, seizing the fist of his host and shaking it heartily.
“Thanks,” said Justin, wincing somewhat. Then, making another effort to enter upon the common ground of politics, he said:
“When I left my native country last October a year ago, the contest was very bitter between the two great parties that divided the nation. Which succeeded in electing their candidate?”
“Good Heavens! What a realizing sense of your long sequestration from the world and your utter ignorance of its affairs your question gives me! I positively never fully appreciated your position until this moment! Man, you might as well have been dead and buried in your grave as entombed alive in this desert of an island!”
“I do not think so,” said Justin. “But tell me who was elected President of the United States?”
“Is it possible that you don’t know?”