It was plain that Edith was much interested in Jack; and she was not the first young lady who had been moved in the same direction: not that she indulged in “moonshine” at his expense; but she pitied him. She wept when the captain of the artillery company insisted that his prisoner should be sent off; for he did not believe in treating Yankees like gentlemen. No reasonable excuse could be offered for resisting this claim; and Jack, after giving up his parole, was taken into custody. He was sent to a barrack a few miles farther inland, where three others, captured from a boat-expedition at Cedar Keys, were confined. They were to remain here till an opportunity offered to send them to a prison-camp. Jack decided not to wait for this opportunity; but one night he made his way through the roof of the barrack, and, under the guidance of a negro who was panting for the “day of jubilee,” reached the coast, near the mouth of the Suwannee. After starving, and suffering from cold and storms, for a week, they found a dug-out, with which they pulled off to the Middy. “Somers again!” said Mr. Dickey, as he climbed over the bulwark. Mr. Dickey was not dead, and gave him a warm hand as he stepped upon deck. “My darling!” cried Tom Longstone. “I was sure you was dead!” “Not yet, Tom. I was wounded; but I am pretty well now.” Jack had been absent four weeks, and had suffered a great deal during the last part of this time; but it was worth while to endure a great deal for such a welcome as was extended to him by officers and crew. After he had taken his supper, he told his story, and listened to a narrative of the events which had taken place on board during his absence. The cotton-steamers had been sent to Key West, and the officers and men who went in them had just returned. Mr. Dickey had been very low, and was not expected to live for a week. He was now able only to walk about the deck. Clem had taken the Middy through every conceivable channel where there was water enough to float her, and was still a favorite on board. “Now, Somers, if you have finished your yarn, I want to see you,” said Captain McBride at a later hour in the evening. “Here is your warrant as a midshipman; and you are ordered to the Naval Academy, after a thirty-days’ leave of absence. Here is a letter from Captain Bankhead.” “Thank you, sir!” exclaimed Jack as he took the papers. “A supply-steamer will be along in a few days, and you will leave in her,” added the captain. Jack was bewildered by this intelligence, for the prospect of seeing Pinchbrook in a few days, and embracing his mother, shaking hands with his father, and spinning yarns to the rest of the folks, was very delightful. The two days he remained on board the Middy, he spent with Tom in the wheel-house. The veteran could hardly reconcile himself to part with his young friend; but, as it was for Jack’s advancement, he put a cheerful face upon the matter.