Meanwhile, the beaten and battered victim of the wreck was taken into the captain’s cabin, supplied with dry clothing, refreshed with bread and wine, and forced to lie down upon a berth to recover his exhausted strength. The captain, who like all old sailors, was a tolerably good physician, would not permit his guest to be questioned until he had some rest. “And, indeed,” said the old skipper, “he is Lord Montressor’s own prize, and shall be examined first of all by his lordship!” And in truth the stranger seemed to be of a similar opinion; for after he had been refreshed by a short rest, his first request was that he might be able to see and thank his brave preserver. Word to this effect was transmitted to Lord Montressor, who lost no time in obeying the summons. He entered the cabin, and took his seat by the side of the berth upon which the shipwrecked passenger lay. The stranger seemed to be a man of about twenty-two years of age, of symmetrical form and handsome face, having a Grecian profile; fair, clear complexion; golden-brown hair, and dark, hazel eyes. “I am glad to find you so well recovered, my friend,” said Lord Montressor, looking with kind interest upon his rescued waif. “I thank you, my lord—I beg pardon! but I understood my gallant preserver to be the Viscount Montressor,” said the young man, fixing his dark, expressive eyes with a look of inquiry upon the face of his lordship. “That is my name, sir.” “And mine is Julius Levering. I am a Baltimore man, my Lord, and am not unacquainted with the fame of Lord Montressor,” said the youth. Lord Montressor gravely waived this compliment, and said— “I hope that you have suffered no injury from the floating fragments of the wreck, sir?” “I thank you; none, my lord,” said Julius Levering, passing his hand thoughtfully across his brow; then withdrawing it, he added, “In truth, I know not _how_, in adequate terms, to express my eternal gratitude to your lordship for the preservation of my life.” “Thank Providence, my dear sir, and not me. My act was too instinctive to merit recollection,” returned Lord Montressor. “But, my dear lord, you risked your own valuable life to save that of a stranger!” “As I should have also risked it to save an enemy. The act was merely impulsive—inevitable, I may say! Pray let us drop that part of the subject. Now tell me, if you please, were there any other persons saved from the wreck, do you know?”