“With pleasure,” answered the young officer, and he immediately offered his arm to Britomarte, as the way was rugged. But with a courteous smile she declined the assistance; and they walked on in an irregular group. Under all these civilities there had been on both sides a half-suppressed eagerness of curiosity. On that of the young officer, to know how these American citizens happened to be found on the desert isle in the Indian Ocean. And on that of Justin to know how the war went in his native land; and also with him it was something more than curiosity; it was almost an agony of anxiety. And it broke forth as they went on. “Outward or homeward bound?” he inquired. “Outward,” replied the young lieutenant. “I am sorry for that! I had hoped that you were going home. Nevertheless, you are as welcome—as welcome as—what shall we say, Miss Conyers? What simile shall we find to express how welcome he is?” said Justin, turning to Britomarte. “None so strong as the simple fact,” answered Britomarte, and then, turning with a smile to the visitor, she added: “You are as welcome, sir, as friends from home to exiles on a desert island.” Lieutenant Ethel bowed. “From what port are you last?” inquired Justin. “From New York.” “And where bound? You must not take exceptions to my asking many questions. I shall ask as many as a Yankee in the pursuit of information under difficulties. Remember that news is scarce here. In fact, the morning papers are not delivered with the regularity we could wish.” “Oh, pray question me as much as you like. I am ready to give you all the information in my power. If I forget to volunteer any, ask me.” “Then, where are you bound?” “Oh, I beg pardon. We are cruising in search of privateers, reported even down as low as these latitudes, lying in wait for our returning East Indiamen, which offer them a rich and easy prey.” “Ah!” exclaimed Justin, breathing hard, “if you are just from home you can tell us—how goes the war for the Union?” he eagerly inquired. “Fast and furious!” “Ah, Heaven! and I not there to take a part! Which side has the advantage?” he breathlessly questioned. “The South. Heavens! what a great fight those Southerners are giving us! By the soul of Washington! none but our own people could have beaten us so thoroughly as we have been beaten at Big Bethel, Bull’s Run, Ball’s Bluff, and the battles that have followed those fatal fields!” fervently exclaimed the young sailor, with that generous admiration which every true hero feels for heroism, even in a foe. “And I not there to strike a blow!” fumed and fretted Justin. “Well, hundreds of thousands of brave men are there, striking hard blows in the good cause.” “But still the rebels have the advantage, you say!”