So, with a courteous bow, the young lieutenant lifted his cap and left the house, accompanied by Justin. They walked down the beach, where they found the boat waiting. The young officer motioned Justin to precede him, and then followed him into it. And the oarsmen took their oars, pushed off from the land, and struck out for the ship. Five minutes of rapid rowing brought them alongside. The captain stood on deck waiting to receive the stranger. The young lieutenant stepped on board, accompanied by Justin, saluted his superior officer, and then presented his companion. “Captain Yetsom, Mr. Rosenthal.” The two gentlemen thus introduced to each other, bowed somewhat informally. “Wrecked from the _Sultana_, some two years since, and cast, with two companions, on this desert island,” the young officer went on to explain. “Lord bless my soul alive! Come down into my cabin and take a glass of wine,” said the captain, as if the calamity had just then occurred, and the sufferer was in immediate need of a restorative. Captain Yetsom was what might well be called a stout man. He was of medium height, but thickly set and solidly built, with a large head, broad shoulders, deep chest and strong limbs. He had a florid complexion, blue eyes and sandy hair and whiskers. He wore the undress uniform of a captain in the United States Navy. “Come—come down into my cabin and take something to drink. It will help you.” “Thanks, captain. I will go down into your _sanctum_ with pleasure; but as we have just risen from the luncheon table, I do not require any refreshment,” said Justin. “Nonsense, man, you must need something to drink! A glass of generous wine would set you up. Come down and take—— Lord bless my life and soul, what a calamity! Were they all lost?” “All but three,” answered Justin, as he followed the hospitable and obstinate sailor down into the cabin. And there, over some rich old port, Justin had to tell again the tale of the woeful shipwreck, and to hear again the story of those fatal fields of Bethel, Manassas and Ball’s Bluff. This talk wore away a good part of the afternoon; and then Justin arose to go. “I came on board in the hope of persuading you to return with me and spend the afternoon and evening at our rustic dwelling,” said Justin, standing, cap in hand. “Not to-day. To-morrow, perhaps. We shall be here three or four days, at least. The ship’s carpenter reports our injuries from the late gale much more serious, or, at least, more extensive, than we had supposed them to be. He says it will take the best part of a week to get her ready for sea again. When we sail I hope you will go with us. I dare say you have no desire to colonize here?” “Not the slightest. I and my companions in exile will very gladly take passage with you,” said Justin. “And I shall be very glad to have you. But mind! I do not promise to take you home immediately. We may have a bout or two with the rebel privateers first,” explained the captain.