"Juan, my husband!" she murmured, and our lips met in that first rapturous kiss of man and wife.
Two days later, having in the meantime stood off toward the Spanish port of Mobile, the Belligerent fell in with a Philadelphia brig, bound for New Orleans. The master of the Quaker vessel readily bargained to take us as passengers, and we were accordingly put aboard the Mary Penn by Captain Powers, after we had taken a most affectionate farewell of Father Rocus. He was going on to Mobile to care for the rescued Spaniards, of whom, all being persons of no political or military consequence, the British were eager to rid themselves.
Except between ourselves and the padre, the parting afforded a welcome relief to all. There had not alone been the matter of personal shame. In these years of national humiliation, it would be difficult for any true American to act the part of a gracious guest aboard a British man-of-war.
But once aboard the Mary Penn, there was nothing to mar the perfect joy of our love. After a short and smooth voyage, the brig put into one of the many mouths of the Mississippi, and, ascending in charge of a pilot, landed us at New Orleans, the happiest couple in all the wide world.