“You can depend upon us both so long as we are alive,” Alec said, in a tone so solemn that it was as if he had a premonition of sudden death.
“That is my true brother!” the commodore said proudly. “I have no question but that you will prove yourself worthy to be called Americans. Now I beg that you seek repose. A brave man cares well for his body, lest it should be weaker than his will.”
“Have you slept?” Alec asked quickly.
“It would be impossible; and, besides, the belief that we shall soon meet the enemy has so refreshed me that I no longer need rest.”
“It would be useless for me to lie down, Oliver. How could I sleep when within a few hours my brother is to show the world that no braver man than he lives?”
“It is not well that praise be bestowed before having been earned, Alec dear,” the commodore said, with a low laugh. “I promise to do my best; and after the victory has been won you shall say what you please.”
Then we three paced to and fro on the quarterdeck, the commodore’s arm yet around his brother’s neck, and I holding him firmly by the hand, for in that hearty clasp I found much to give me courage.
It was in this fashion that the light of a new day found us, and I believe the marines, who paced to and fro guarding the commander’s quarters, shortened their beats, lest by advancing too near they break in upon what was neither more nor less than a season of devotion.
As the light grew stronger, from this vessel and from that came signs of life, until the still air was vibrant with the hum of voices, and it seemed good to be alive.
I had, for the time being, forgotten that the day was come on which our people believed we would be brought yard-arm to yard-arm with the enemy, until startled almost into timorousness by a cry from the lookout:—