"What place is it?"
"Mariana."
"Mariana," repeated Fernando, "I have heard that name before. Where was it? Mariana,--Mariana."
Terrence came forward to his companions and said:
"Now, lads, like as not the frinds of Matson may be afther following us. Lave it all to me. We'll change our names and go up to the tavern, where we'll hire rooms and be gintlemen traveling for pleasure."
"Would they dare follow us on shore?"
"No; I think not; but if they should, my plan will answer."
When they ran into shore, Terrence paid the boatman and discharged him. Terrence was the son of a rich Irish merchant in Philadelphia, who kept his son liberally supplied with money, who, with corresponding liberality, spent it.
Terrence felt that this was his scrape, and he resolved to bear the expenses.
With his friends, he went to the tavern, where they engaged rooms. Fernando and Sukey retired to their rooms, while Terrence remained in the tap-room, where there was a crowd of Marylanders. He began telling them a most horrible story of the impressment of himself and his friends by a British vessel and of their recent escape. He stated that they had been closely pursued, and he would not be surprised if the Britishers sent a boat on shore to take them away.