“I am Lieutenant Bankhead, of the United States navy; and I come on business of pressing importance.” “Show your pass,” replied the guard hoarsely. “I have no pass.” “Keep off, then, or I will fire! My orders are very strict.” “Will you pass the word for the officer of the guard?” “I can’t do it. Keep off, or I must fire!” “One word, and I will go. Who is the officer of the day?” demanded the lieutenant. “Captain Bankhead.” “He is my brother. His father is dying. You can put the boatman and myself under guard.” This statement seemed to produce an effect upon the sentinel, and he ordered both John and his passenger to come upon the wharf. The corporal of the guard was sent for, and soon appeared with a lantern in his hand, which enabled him to see the shoulder-straps of Mr. Bankhead. He directed him to get into the boat again, while he despatched a man for Captain Bankhead. It was some time before the latter appeared; and then half an hour was consumed in seeing the commandant of the fort and obtaining the necessary furlough. It was after ten o’clock when the two brothers were embarked on the Dashaway for the return trip. If there was any change in the weather, it was for the worse. The rain had begun to fall, and the gale had not decreased in violence. “Now, my lad, you have two lives besides your own, instead of one, in your keeping, and you must have a sharp eye to windward,” said Lieutenant Bankhead. “I shall do the best I know how. We will run up under the reefed foresail; but a small boat going before the wind makes worse weather than on any other tack. She will shake you up a good deal; but she will land you at Pinchbrook Harbor in two hours from now, if nothing happens,” added John, as he cast off the painter, and pushed off from the wharf. “This is an awful night,” said Captain Bankhead, who, being no sailor, began to be filled with doubts and fears as the Dashaway leaped forward upon her course. But, notwithstanding the doubts of the sailor and the fears of the soldier, the brave little bark bore them safely over the stormy waves, till in mid-channel, just below Fort Independence, a dark object on the water, dead ahead, attracted the attention of the watchful skipper. “Sail ahead!” said Lieutenant Bankhead. “I see it, sir.” “I will go forward, and see how she heads.” The naval officer went out to the heel of the bowsprit to determine the course of the approaching vessel. “Steady,” said he. “Steady,” replied John. CHAPTER III. THE SAILOR AND THE SOLDIER. The approaching vessel which appeared to be a pilot-boat, was close-hauled, and was beating down the harbor. Her course, at the time she was discovered on board the Dashaway, was at a sharp angle across that of the little schooner. She was going off on the port-side of the Dashaway; and all danger of a collision seemed to be over, though Lieutenant Bankhead still retained his position on the forecastle.