On our way back the shore was lined with the passengers and crew of the War Eagle and such of the townspeople as happened to be about, and among them I saw Constance with arms outstretched. At this I stood up in the boat and waved my hand, calling her name, and this I continued to do, that she might see I was safe and unharmed. When finally we reached the War Eagle, I made my way to where she stood, and putting my arms about her trembling form, held her, neither of us speaking. While we stood thus, the captain came up, and thinking we were brother and sister, said, out of compliment to her:
"You ought to be proud of your brother, my little lady!"
"Yes, sir; but he's not my brother," she answered, without offering to disengage herself from my arms.
"A cousin, or some relative?"
"No, sir."
"Your lover, then? Well, I like that best. Yes, yes, decidedly, that's as it should be. A few years, and they will soon pass, and then you will make a fine couple. Be always as you are now, though, for it was in that way my wife and I grew up; and now she is the finest woman in the world. Come, my son," he went on, "are you the lad that asked me for work?"
"Yes, sir," I answered.
"I thought so. Well, I have changed my mind; captains, you see, can do that as well as other people. If you don't know enough to be a cabin boy, you will learn, and of that I am sure. So if you still want the place, I shall be mighty glad to give it to you."
"Thank you," I answered; "I wish you would."
"When do you want to come aboard—to-day or on our return? For we shall be pulling out in a few minutes."