"That's it. I always said ye was a lad after me own heart; but, Fernando, don't yez say one word to Sukey. He's too slow and careful. He might make trouble with us and upset all our plans." At first, Fernando, who hated anything like deceit, opposed secresy; but his Irish friend brought so many excellent arguments to bear, that he virtually carried his point. "Terrence, I fear I will make an awkward figure in a ball room!" declared Fernando. "I am not accustomed to such things." "A glass or two of champagne will do it for ye." "But I never danced in my life." "I'll teach ye mesilf, and, bedad, ye'll be as foine a terpechorian artist be the toime, as will be at the ball." The last objection swept away, Fernando began secretly to take lessons in the waltz, cotillon and other dances of the day. Whatever may be said against Terrence, one thing is quite certain, he was no bad dancing master, and Fernando was an apt pupil. Somehow, there was a spice of adventure in the escapade, which seemed to thrill Fernando with pleasure, and he entered into it with a zeal that was remarkable. The English man-of-war in the harbor was the _Xenophon_, Captain Conkerall commander. The captain had some acquaintances and friends in Baltimore, and this event transpired before the war spirit became so strong that English officers dared not venture on shore. The captain and his officers were of course invited to the ball. The day of the ball, the captain came ashore and was snugly quartered at the Baltimore House, getting ready for the affair. The captain was in his room talking with some citizens of Baltimore and a congressman; a decanter and glasses were on a sideboard, and the captain's face was somewhat flushed, when there entered a neat, well-dressed young gentleman, whose language and features were slightly Hibernian. "I beg pardon, gintlemen, but this is Captain Conkerall? Sure I make no mistake, for the very bearin' tells me he is a son of Neptune." As the captain was in full uniform, of course there was no trouble about recognizing him. The captain rose and, taking the hand of the young man, tried hard to remember where he had seen him before. "Sure, ye don't remember me. I am Lord Kildee, the son of the ould baron of Kildee Castle, who was a schoolmate of yer father." The captain, delighted at having so noted an acquaintance, took great pleasure in introducing a scion of such a noble family as Kildee. One would have thought, from Captain Conkerall's manner, that he had been on intimate terms with the house of Kildee all his life, while in reality he had never until that moment known that there lived such a being as the Lord of Kildee. Wine and vanity work wonders, and the captain felt great pride in being recognized at Baltimore by Lord Kildee, whose father was, as the new acquaintance assured him, a member of the house of lords.