"I was sent as prize-master to the _Barclay_," he wrote. "This was an important event in my life; and when it was decided that I was to take the ship to Valparaiso, I felt no little pride at finding myself in command, at twelve years of age. The _Barclay_ had been recaptured from a Spanish _guarda costa_. The captain and his mate were on board; and I was to control the men sent from our frigate, while the captain was to navigate the vessel. When Captain Porter ordered us to proceed to Valparaiso, the captain of the _Barclay_, a violent-tempered old fellow, was furious. "He told me that he should take the _Barclay_ where he pleased, but never to Valparaiso. "I considered that my day of trial had come, for I was a little afraid of the old fellow, as every one else was. But the time had come for me at least to play the man, so I mustered up courage and informed the captain that I desired the topsail filled away. "He replied that he would shoot any man who dared to touch a rope without his orders; he 'would go his own course, and had no idea of trusting himself with a nut-shell'--meaning me. And then he went below for his pistols. "I called my right-hand man of the crew, and told him my situation; I also informed him that I wanted the main topsail filled. "He answered with a clear 'Ay, ay, sir!' in a manner which was not to be misunderstood, and my confidence was perfectly restored. "From that moment I became master of the vessel, and immediately gave all necessary orders for making sail, notifying the captain not to come on deck with his pistols unless he wished to go overboard; for I would really have had little trouble in having such an order obeyed." We can readily understand how such a letter would arouse the people to a frenzy of excitement. And thus, in alternate enthusiasm and depression, the months passed away. The people had not realized what war meant, they had not yet faced the dread monster, as in a few months they were destined to do--when the British marched into their city and burned the Capitol and the White House. That was not dreamed of then, and the people feasted only on the news of distant conflict. "If the war does not end by the New Year," said Vernon to Bertha Tempest, "I shall fit out another privateer." "What would Pauline say?" "Would she care?" "Ask her." "Bertha, you raise my hopes--why do you speak like that? You know something--does she care for me?" "Why not ask her?" "If I did and was repulsed----" "But if you were not!" "I will ask her. I will be bold. I will go on my knees and say: 'Pauline, I love you, will you be my wife?' and then if she repulses me, I shall--shall go to the war and not care what becomes of me." "But if she says yes?" Vernon was startled, for the question was asked by Pauline, who had entered unobserved. "You heard?" asked Vernon, half idiotically, for unless she had heard she could not have asked him the question.