“I have placed myself in this position by a rash act,” he said to himself, as he turned, sick at heart, away from the painful and disgusting sight.  “And all rebellion against the authority around me will but make plainer my own weakness.  I have degraded myself; but there is a lower degradation still, and that I must avoid.  Drag me to the gangway, and I am lost!”

Strict obedience and submission was from that time self-compelled on the part of Mark Clifford.  It was not without a strong effort, however, that he kept down the fiery spirit within him.  A word of insolent command—­and certain of the young midshipmen on board could not speak to a senior even if he were old as their father, except in a tone of insult—­would send the blood boiling through his veins.

It was only by the narrowest chances that Mark escaped punishment during the first six months of the cruise, which was in the Pacific.  If he succeeded in bridling his tongue, and restraining his hands from violence he could not hide the indignant flash of his eyes, nor school the muscles of his face into submission.  They revealed the wild spirit of rebellion that was in his heart.  Intelligent promptness in duty saved him.

This was seen by his superior officers, and it was so much in his favor when complaints came from the petty tyrants of the ship who sometimes shrunk from the fierce glance that in a moment of struggling passion would be cast upon them.  After a trying ordeal of six months, he was favored by one of the officers who saw deeper than the rest; and gathered from him a few hints as to his true character.  In pitying him, he made use of his influence to save him from some of the worst consequences of his position.

Jenny Lawson was a changed girl after her brief meeting with Mark Clifford.  Before, she had been as light hearted and gay as a bird.  But, her voice was no longer heard pouring forth the sweet melodies born of a happy heart.  Much of her time she sought to be alone; and when alone, she usually sat in a state of dreamy absent-mindedness.  As for her thoughts, they were most of the time on Clifford.  His hand had stirred the waters of affection in her gentle bosom; and they knew no rest.  Mr. Lofton frequently sent for her to come over to the mansion house.  He never spoke to her of Mark; nor did she mention his name—­though both thought of him whenever they were together.  The oftener Mr. Lofton saw Jenny, and the more he was with her, the more did she remind him of his own lost child—­his Jenny, the mother of Mark—­now in heaven.  The incident of meeting with young Clifford had helped to develop Jenny’s character, and give it a stronger type than otherwise would have been the case.  Thus, she became to Mr. Lofton companionable; and, ere a year had elapsed from the time Mark went away, Mrs. Lee, having passed to her account, she was taken into his house, and he had her constantly with him.  As he continued to fail, he leaned upon the affectionate girl more and more heavily; and was never contented when she was away from him.