"Oh, I will give it up, if you really say so; but this is a queer state
of things when my sword, presented to me by my fellow-citizens, is to be
taken from me without any warrant of law," said Captain Rowly, as he
handed the sword to Christy, who returned it when it had done its duty
as a token of submission.
The prisoner was marched to the forecastle of the Havana, and put under
guard. Christy walked towards the young lady, who had evidently dressed
herself for the occasion. She was not only young, but she was beautiful,
and the young commander of the expedition was strongly impressed by her
grace and loveliness. He had heard her speak in the gloom of the early
morning, and she had a silvery voice. He could not but wonder what she
was doing on board of a blockade runner.
"Good morning, Miss ---- I have not the pleasure of being able to call
you by name," Christy began as he touched his cap to her, and bowed his
involuntary homage.
"Miss Pembroke," she added.
"I trust you are as comfortable as the circumstances will permit, Miss
Pembroke. I hope you have ceased to be alarmed, as you were when I saw
you before.
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