“Yes, I am proud of it myself; but it is more than I deserve, Perry, as I did not risk my life, you know, for I could have swam back to the shore if I found I could not have reached the yacht, and I got my reward in my appointment here; but here is a card,” and Mark read aloud:
“Since your entrance to the Naval Academy my eye has been upon you, my young friend, and I congratulate you upon your success, and beg your acceptance of the accompanying as a token of my appreciation of the debt of gratitude I owe you.”
“Most neatly expressed, Merrill; but now look here,” and Perry took from the box a superb, gold-mounted sea-glass.
“How beautiful!” exclaimed Mark, as he had just put his watch and chain in place.
“The commodore has got his eye on you, too, Merrill,” said Perry, with a laugh, as he pointed to what was engraved on the glasses:
“PRESENTED AS A TRIBUTE TO TRUE COURAGE
TO
CADET MIDSHIPMAN MARK MERRILL,
FROM
David Lucien, Commodore U. S. Navy.”
Mark Merrill was deeply moved by these expressions of gratitude and good will from such men as were the donors of the magnificent gifts to him.
He walked to the window of his room, glass in hand, and stood gazing listlessly out upon the scene before him.
It was no dream, as he had often feared, for before him was the ocular demonstration of the fact that he was a naval cadet in the service of his country.
His thoughts went back to little more than a year, when in his little surf-skiff he was carrying the mail through sunshine and storm along the rugged coast.