No one knew why the captain had never married.  His first mate, who had sailed under him four years, had never dared broach him on the subject of matrimony.  There was a story—­a mere rumor—­perhaps without the slightest foundation, of Felix Lane, when a poor sailor boy, loving the daughter of an English merchant at Portsmouth, England.  The mate got the story from a gossipy old English sailor, who claimed to know all about it, but whose fondness for spinning yarns brought discredit on his veracity.  According to the old sailor’s account, the fair English maid’s name was Mary.  Her father was one of the wealthiest merchants in the city; and one day when Lane was only nineteen he met Mary.  Her beauty captivated him and inspired him to a nobler life.  Mary loved the young sailor; but it was the old story of the penniless lover and cruel parent.  The sailor was forcibly expelled from the house and sailed to America, with a heart full of revenge and ambition.

He arrived just after the battle of Lexington, and soon shipped aboard a privateer.  Again it was the old story of a rash lover laughing at death, seeking the grim monster who seemed to avoid him.  His ship was so successful, that in a short time each of the crew was rich from prize money.  Four years and a half of war found Felix Lane commander of the most daring privateer on the ocean.  He was already wealthy and continued by fresh prizes to add to his immense fortune.  The merchant marine of Great Britain dreaded his ship, the Sea Rover, more than the whole American navy.  Lane was one of the most expert seamen on the ocean, and might have had a high office in the regular navy, had he not found this semi-piratical business more lucrative.

One day his vessel sighted a large merchantman, off the coast of Spain, and engaged it in a terrible conflict.  The merchantman carried twice as many people and heavier guns than the Sea Rover; but by the skilful management of his ship Captain Lane continued to rake her fore and aft until she was forced to strike her colors.  When the conqueror went aboard, he found the splintered deck a scene of horror.  Cordage, shrouds, broken spars and dead and dying men strewed the deck.  Near the gangway was a middle-aged man holding in his arms a girl mortally wounded in the conflict.  He recognized her in a moment, and the scene which followed tried all the powers of the old yarn-spinner’s descriptive faculties.  He held her in his arms and wept and prayed until her life was extinct.  It was said that she recognized him and that she died with a sweet smile on her face, pointing upward to a place of reunion.  The father, who had survived the conflict, was released, and Captain Felix continued his career a sadder and better man.

Whether this story was true or not, no one can at this day tell, for Jack tars are proverbial yarn-spinners, and seek more after romance than truth.  One thing is quite certain, though, Captain Lane was still a bachelor, and had resisted all the advances of beautiful women, until no one doubted that he would end his days a bachelor.