"Of course I heard what you said, you silly, conceited fellow!" "And your answer?" "Any one but you knew what it would be months ago." "You mean it--you do love me?" It is needless saying what answers were given to Vernon's questions. Bertha had withdrawn and left the young people together, and the hours slipped by, to them uncounted and unheeded. When Bertha did re-enter the room, Vernon exclaimed, with all the enthusiasm of a schoolboy: "Bertha, we are to be married in two weeks; isn't it too bad that Pauline wants to wait so long?" CHAPTER XXXV. THE END OF THE LIVELY BEE. The marriage of Harry Vernon with the daughter of Colonel Jones was an event of note in Washington society. No matter how quiet the contracting parties wished it to be, the people said, "No." Vernon was a public man. He belonged to the public, and his marriage must be a public one. Such was the verdict of society, and to its edict he had to bow. The ceremony was but halfway through when a man, wan and weary looking, entered the church and took a seat in the rear pew. None seemed to recognize him until the bride, leaning on her husband's arm, was nearly opposite him. Then the groom turned, and with a glad shout left his wife and clasped the stranger's hand. "Tempest! My dear fellow, you don't know how glad I am to see you." But there was another equally--nay, if possible more--glad, and that was the loving Bertha. She did not faint. She was made of heroic stuff, and while she rested her head on her husband's shoulder she whispered her congratulations on his return. "But you are ill. You look so poorly." "Yes, dear, but I am alive, and to be with you will be better than medicine or physician's skill." At the wedding feast the honored guest was John Tempest. All were waiting for his story, all knew that there would be sadness in its recital. Only one question had Vernon asked. "What of the _Lively Bee_?" And Tempest had answered: "At the bottom of the sea. All lost save honor." Then the story was told. "The _Lively Bee_ had reached the roadstead of Fayal. The neutral flag of Portugal floated from its citadel, and I thought we were safe. "But while we were lying in the port, getting fresh provisions and repainting, a British squadron, composed of the _Plantagenet_, seventy-four guns; the _Rota_, thirty-eight, and _Carnation_, eighteen, hove in sight. "The governor of Fayal sent for me and said he was too weak in military forces to protect me, so I must take my chance. "At night four barges, let fall from the enemy's ships, each manned by forty men, made toward us. "I ordered to beat to quarters, and when my men were at their posts I shouted: "'What boat is that? Answer or I'll fire.' "You know I had four guns, as well as the long one, and when the British refused to answer I ordered a broadside to be fired. "The carnage was terrible, for my gunners kept loading and firing with astonishing rapidity.