It will be remembered that he had saved the yacht, by a strange coincidence bearing the name of Midshipman, and this every one on board realized. He had driven her through a dangerous channel, with reefs on every hand, in the darkness and storm, standing coolly at his post and issuing his orders in a voice that was firm and commanding, until he had brought her into a basin as quiet as a mill pond, and said: “Let go the anchor!” The storm still raged outside, the waves thundered against the rocky shore, and the winds howled among the pines that crowned the hilltops. But the yacht rocked gently upon the swell that was driven in through the narrow channel; there was plenty of water beneath her keel, and though lofty, vine-clad cliffs were above them upon all sides, the crew knew that their vessel was safe. Realizing this, all the guests had gone into the large and brilliantly lighted cabin, and thither General Peyton had followed with the young pilot. The youth had urged against it, saying that he was wet, barefooted, and hardly more than half-dressed, but General Peyton had said: “The Secretary of the Navy wishes to see you.” Standing in his wet clothing before that august group gathered there, Mark Merrill was modest of mien, yet not abashed. “You wished to see me, sir?” he said, bowing to the Secretary. “Yes, my lad, sit down.” “Ah, sir, I am not fit to be here, looking as I do; and I am anxious to return home, as my mother will be expecting me.” “You live near here, then?” “Yes, sir, upon the cliff.” “And you have a mother living?” “Yes, sir, she is all I have, except old Peggy, for my father was lost at sea.” “And what is your calling, my lad?” “I fish for the market boats, and then I carry the mail once each week along the coast.” “In a boat, of course?” “Yes, sir, in my surf-skiff.” “Do you get liberal pay for this work, may I ask?” “Not very, sir, for with the mail carrying and my fish-selling I average about fifty dollars a month.” “But your mother has other means of support?” “No, sir; we pay no rent, as we live in Cliff Castle free for keeping it, and I have a good garden, and there is plenty of game and fish for the shooting and catching.” “What do you do when it storms too hard to carry the mail?” “I always go, sir, for my skiff is a lifeboat, and stands any weather.” “How did you manage to come out to our aid?” “I was on the cliff, sir, watching the storm, and saw you round the point and run for an anchorage. I know that anchors will not hold on the bottom of Hopeless Haven, and the currents in the bay make the sea very wild, so I determined to go out and pilot you into Cliff Castle harbor.” “And swam out to us in the face of that storm?” “Well, sir, I had not time to go to the bay and run out in my skiff, so I slipped down the bluff and jumped in, for it was not a very long swim, sir.”