“‘I sailed two hours after this intelligence arrived,’ continued the captain of the fishing lugger; ‘therefore am quite unable to explain the mystery of the transaction.’ He also stated that Sir Sidney and his men had captured the Vengeance, but that wind and tide were against their taking her out; that they defended her in the most gallant manner, against overwhelming odds, for boats full of soldiers were sent out against them, besides an armed lugger.”
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Mabel, her face very pale, and her voice trembling with emotion. “Can you understand, Captain O’Loughlin, what could have become of Lieutenant Thornton?”
“It is certainly very singular, and not very easily explained,” said Captain O’Loughlin. “Still, it appears to me that someway or another William Thornton must have taken the Vengeance to sea; who else could, for he was not taken ashore with Sir Sidney and the others, and there was no officer even wounded, except Midshipman Beecroft? How the Vengeance caught fire it is impossible for me to say, but if William was in her he has got ashore, and I should not be surprised but that with his knowledge of the French language he may manage to get safe out of the country. I wish to God I had been in the Diamond; I should have been tempted to run in to their rescue, even if I had lost the frigate in the attempt. But do not, I beg you, Mabel, take this so much to heart; I have every confidence in the gallantry and ingenuity of my friend; he will, if he is in France, work his way out of it. I wish I was with him. I am more vexed than I can tell you. I hoped when appointed to a ship to have had him for my first lieutenant; his interest with Lord Hood, and his own gallantry, would have made him a commander in six months.”
“But with his fortune and rank,” said Mabel, seriously, “why should he continue in the navy?”
“My dear Mabel,” said Agatha Volney, “neither rank nor wealth would have the least effect on Sir Oscar de Bracy, for I think we ought to give him the name he is entitled to; rank or fortune would weigh nothing in the balance with honour and glory. The navy is his pride and delight.”
“Be St. Patrick, you are right, Agatha!” said Captain O’Loughlin. “If you were to ask him which he would give up, wealth or profession, be the powers of war, he would say without hesitation, wealth, my beauty!”
“And pray, Mr., or rather Captain O’Loughlin,” said Agatha, “if you were asked which you would give up, your profession or Miss Agatha Volney, I suppose it would be—‘Be the powers of war, you, my beauty!’”
“Ah, you little deceiver!” said the Captain. “You know deuced well which way the vane would turn. Now, if my gallant young friend were once fairly caught in Cupid’s meshes, to the deuce with the profession, when that wicked deceiver hoists his flag.”
“And do you pretend to tell me, most redoubtable Commander,” said Agatha, demurely, “that you were never in love before, and you in your twenty-seventh year?”
“Faith, I can’t say that, fair Agatha,” said the Captain, with a smile. “You know I was six years a middy, and a mid is perpetually in love—that is, when he gets ashore, and sees a petticoat fluttering in the wind. But I must be off to London to-night; try and console Mabel, she looks very unhappy (our heroine had retired, leaving the lovers together); upon my conscience I’m afraid her little heart is beating with something more than cousinly love for my handsome friend.”