All former arrangements were cancelled and Fernando and Terrence that evening occupied the same room.  There was much to talk about.  Terrence told him that Mr. Hugh St. Mark the “illigant” gunner had served in the last cruise on his vessel, and he never seemed to tire of talking about him.  He was a “gintleman,” from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.  Mr. St. Mark was on the ship in the harbor, and next day came ashore.  He greeted the major with his kind quiet smile.  Fernando learned that neither had been to Mariana since the bombardment and destruction of the Xenophon.  He prevailed on them to accompany him, and next day in a swift yacht they sailed out of the harbor and down the coast.  The scenery revived many recollections of Fernando’s early experience.  They passed the point where he had fought his duel, and he could not repress a smile at the ludicrous termination of what had so nearly proved a serious affair.  Terrence did most of the talking, for Fernando was busy with his own reflections.  He was asking himself if it might be possible that he would be just in time to witness the nuptials of Matson and Morgianna.  He had never freed himself from the thought that she loved the lieutenant.  Her regard for himself was gratitude not love.  He would not allow himself to believe that she entertained a more tender sentiment.

When they arrived at Mariana the people congregated in a great crowd on the beach, and the local martial band, consisting of three drums and a fife, played “Yankee Doodle.” while Fernando and his friends were escorted to the tavern.  Here a local orator, who had been three times an unsuccessful candidate for a seat in the halls of the legislature, made a short speech.  This had scarcely terminated in three rousing cheers, when a carriage from Captain Lane’s house came rattling down the street.  The captain was in the vehicle.

“Why are you cheering?  Who has arrived?” he demanded.

“Major Stevens, who saved Mariana, when the British were about to take it,” the orator answered.

“Where is he?”

“In the tavern.”

“But he is not going to stay there!” thundered the old sailor, rolling out of his carriage and rushing on the piazza.  “I have made room in my own house for him, and, by the trident of Neptune! he shall come with me.”

Fernando, hearing the voice of his old friend, came out to grasp his hand; and Captain Lane, pointing to his carriage, swore he had come to take him bag and baggage to his house.  Fernando explained that he had two friends; but the captain did not care if he had a dozen, and in less time than the whole matter could be told the three travellers found themselves in the vehicle whirling up the avenue of trees, many of which still bore the marks of shells and cannon shot.

The greeting between Fernando and Morgianna was warm, but formal.  Terrence impulsively grasped the little hand of the “maid o’ the beach,” as he called her, and paid her some pretty compliment, which caused her to blush, enhancing her beauty a hundred fold.