“Ay, ay, sir!” replied Frank, as he laid the Zephyr’s course towards the sailboat.

Though his father had only spoken his name, there was something in the tone which could not be misapprehended; but it did not occur to him, he was so engaged in thinking of the incidents at the bridge, that he had disobeyed his father’s command in passing into the river.

As the Zephyr approached, the Sylph luffed, and came up into the wind, to wait for her.  Frank brought his boat round under the stern of the sailboat, and “lay to” an oar’s length from her.

“Frank,” said his father, sternly, “I am surprised that you should venture among those rocks, when I have expressly forbidden you ever to go into the river.”

“But, father, there was—­”

“How could you do such a thing, after I had so carefully warned you—­so positively interdicted it?  Suppose your boat had been dashed in pieces,” continued Captain Sedley, who, though deeply grieved at his son’s apparent disobedience, was too indignant to hear an excuse; for such he supposed Frank was about to offer—­one of those silly, frivolous excuses which boys sometimes seize upon to palliate their misconduct.

“I protested against it!” said Charles Hardy, rising from his seat.

“Shut up!” exclaimed Little Paul, his cheek glowing with indignation, as he pulled Charles back into his seat.

“I went to save life, father,” replied Frank, almost choked by his emotions, a flood of tears springing in his eyes and well-nigh blinding him.

“To save life!” said Captain Sedley, touched by the reply, and far more by Frank’s emotion.

He saw that he had spoken too quick—­that his son had not passed the rocks without a good and sufficient reason.

“Yes, sir,” replied Frank, struggling to master his feelings; and then he related all that had occurred at the bridge; how Tony had saved the lady and gentleman, and the horse; and how his crew had pulled the chaise ashore.

“You did right, Frank; forgive my hasty words,” said Captain Sedley, with deep feeling.

“Good, my hearty!” exclaimed Uncle Ben, clapping his hands.

A heavy load had been removed from the mind of the veteran, who had almost come to believe that Frank could do no wrong.

“Tony’s a hero; and shiver my timbers, if he oughtn’t to be president of the United States, when he’s old enough,” exclaimed Uncle Ben.

“He is a brave fellow.  You have done well, both of you.  However strict our orders are, no person should be a machine.  Orders should be obeyed with judgment,” continued Captain Sedley.

“That’s a fact.  I could tell a yarn about that,” added Uncle Ben.  “When I was in the old Varsayles, bound round the Horn—­”

“Another time we will hear your yarn, Ben,” interposed Captain Sedley.  “We will go over and see Tony now, and congratulate him on the honors the Butterfly has won.  Haul in the gib sheet, Ben.”