“Heave ahead, shipmate, for I have no family secrets.”

“Will you tell me the maiden name of your wife?”

“I never had a wife.”

This announcement brought St. Mark to his feet, and his usually placid features exhibited the wildest excitement.  “Never married!  But your daughter—­”

“Only daughter by adoption, shipmate.  She is no blood relation to me, though I love her as dearly as any father could.”

“But her father—­her mother?”

“I don’t know who either of them are, I can only suspect.”

“Don’t you know their names?”

“I never did.”

“This is remarkable!” and the features of the usually quiet man betrayed the greatest excitement.  “Where did you find her and when?”

“I found her at sea when she was a baby, too young to speak or remember anything of herself.”

“Captain Lane, do you mind telling me all about the finding of her?”

The captain did not, and proceeded to tell him the story of Morgianna, which the reader already knows.  St. Mark had regained his composure at the conclusion of the story and, in a calm, clear voice, said: 

“Captain, I may have the sequel to your story.  I am a native of Vermont and, at the age of twenty-two, married Bertha Rigdon of Boston, whose brother Alfred, like myself, was a sea captain.  We were both young, ardent lovers of liberty, and thoroughly imbued with the ideas of Thomas Jefferson in regard to the French Revolution.  When our government refused to take up the quarrel with France, we determined to espouse her cause ourselves.  Both our fathers had died prisoners on board the old Jersey prison ship, and we felt that our lives should be devoted to avenging them.  This resolution was wicked, and perhaps the punishment which followed we deserved.

“We each commanded a vessel which began a warfare on English commerce, defying all their embargo acts and neutrality laws.  We were soon declared outlaws and prices set on our heads.  Not only Great Britain, but Spain, Prussia and Austria declared us pirates, and our own government dared not shelter us.

“My wife, with our infant child, accompanied me on my last voyage.  I was sailing in company with her brother, Captain Alf Rigdon, when we were chased by some British cruisers off Rio in June, 1796, and Alf’s brig being the swiftest sailer, I sent my wife and child aboard his vessel, with a large sum of money to have them conveyed to the United States and cared for until we could return.

“I parted from the ship and after a three days’ chase was overhauled by the British cruisers and captured.  I was forced to join her navy to save my life, and served Great Britain until I deserted during the siege of Mariana.  I have never heard of my brother-in-law, my wife or child since.”

Captain Lane prided himself on being able to control his feelings under all circumstances; but it required no little effort for him to do so now.  After a few moments, he asked: