“Is he your friend?”

“Yes; his father and I shipped afore the mast when we were boys together.  When the war broke out, he entered the British navy while I went aboard a Yankee privateer.  I am glad to say we never met in battle.”

Fernando felt himself growing just a little bit uneasy.  He did not like this friendship between the captain and Lieutenant Matson; and he could see that the old seaman was glad the lieutenant’s wound was not fatal.

What strange emotion stirred the Ohio student’s soul, when he met the soft eyes of Morgianna, words cannot express.  She talked on a variety of subjects, and at times Fernando flattered himself that she was pleased to have him with her; but the next moment he reasoned that it might be only her good breeding which made her appear to tolerate him.  Fernando was not foolish enough to be conceited.  He lived in hope and doubt and was the happiest man at times, and at others the most miserable.  Though he took Sukey into his confidence, Fernando was a little shy of Terrence.

The reader will remember that Terrence had, on entering the village, suggested the propriety of going under assumed names.  Fernando had forgotten, if he ever knew, that he was registered at the tavern as Mr. Phil.  Magrew of Hartford, and that good, innocent Sukey was George Molesworth, while Terrence was Larry O’Connor, a name quite in keeping with his nationality.  A ludicrous mistake, which came near being fatal to Fernando’s respectability at Mariana, resulted from this incident.

They had been a week at the tavern, and Fernando, who had lived a thousand years of alternating bliss and agony in that short period, was sitting in the bar-room in front of a great roaring fire, which the chill evening of early autumn made comfortable, utterly oblivious of the grumbling of the landlord, who was saying: 

“When people stay a whole week ’thout any luggage, it be high time they pay up.  I wonder Mr. Magrew don’t take notice on’t.”

The supposed Mr. Magrew, however, did not hear what he said.  He was gazing into the blazing fire, weaving bright pictures from which the eyes of Morgianna seemed gazing at him.  Fernando had forgotten the academy, home, parents and all in this new inspiration.  Terrence and Sukey entered while the landlord was still grumbling and looking hard at Fernando, who was utterly oblivious of his wrath.

“Mister Magrew, be ye a man o’ honor?” demanded mine host; but “Mr. Magrew” was as indifferent as a statue of stone.  “The wagabond sits there an’ hears himself abused an’ be too heedless to answer.  By the mass, I will even tweak his nose!  Magrew—­Magrew—­I’ll wake you!”

All the while Terrence, Sukey, and everybody else was wondering whom the enraged landlord meant.  Suddenly Terrence recollected that he had registered Fernando under the name of Philip Magrew.  He hastened to meet the landlord before he reached Fernando, and thus prevented a collision, which would have been violent indeed.