Her distinguished owner, a millionaire Bostonian, had invited a congenial party to become his guests for a cruise from Fortress Monroe along the coast to the St. Lawrence and back to Newport, and among the guests were several who had won fame in the history of their country in civil and military life. The Honorable Secretary of the United States Navy, gallant Commodore Lucien, and several others of lesser note, accompanied by half a dozen ladies, comprised the guests of General Peyton on the Midshipman. The cruise had been greatly enjoyed, and the prow of the yacht had been turned homeward, when suddenly came up from out of the very sea, it seemed, the black and ugly storm. The ladies implored the skipper to head for the shore, to seek refuge in some harbor, though he urged, as he knew little of the coast just there, the open sea was the safer. “We will find some harbor, captain, so run in, where you deem best,” General Peyton had said, for he did not like the looks of the heavens, and night not far off. Around a point swept the yacht, and a cry of joy came from many lips at what appeared to be a safe anchorage before them. Into the bay ran the Midshipman, and quickly her anchors were let go, her sails furled, and all made ship-shape to meet the rising tempest, which was growing appalling in its magnitude and blackness. “I don’t like this place, sir, and we had better fire a gun to bring a pilot off in case we have to stand out,” said the skipper to General Peyton. “Do so, if you deem best, captain; but see, yonder stands some one upon that cliff.” All eyes were turned upon the cliff, and they wondered to see the form of a man running at full speed along the edge of the towering rocks. He darted into an arbor, and in a short while reappeared, and then his actions caused still greater surprise, for he was seen to come boldly down the rocky face of the cliff toward the sea. All watched with deepest interest, momentarily forgetting the storm in their wonderment at the actions of the one on the cliff. Suddenly a cry broke from every lip, for the form was seen to suddenly spring into the foaming waters. The ladies turned their faces away in awe, the men watched the waters where the form had disappeared, for it seemed that the fate of the stranger was ominous of their own. Suddenly from the inky clouds, trailing over the sea to break upon the stone-bound coast, came a blinding sheet of livid flame, followed by a crash of thunder that vibrated through the yacht from stem to stern. In the lull that followed came a voice out upon the waters: “Ahoy! ahoy, the yacht!” It was faint, but distinct, and all heard it. “Ahoy! ahoy! the yacht, ahoy!” came the hail louder than before. Brave men looked at each other with something like awe in their faces, until General Peyton cried: “It is the man who sprang from the cliff!” “He is swimming out to us, brave fellow that he is.” Seizing his trumpet he shouted back: