o the devil!"

I thought so too.

CHAPTER VI.

We were ordered to the West Indies. Although Captain Boltrope's manner
toward me was still severe, and even harsh, I understood that my name
had been favorably mentioned in the despatches.

Reader, were you ever at Jamaica? If so, you remember the negresses,
the oranges, Port Royal Tom--the yellow fever. After being two weeks
at the station, I was taken sick of the fever. In a month I was
delirious. During my paroxysms, I had a wild distempered dream of a
stern face bending anxiously over my pillow, a rough hand smoothing my
hair, and a kind voice saying:--

"Bess his 'ittle heart! Did he have the naughty fever?" This face
seemed again changed to the well-known stern features of Captain
Boltrope.

When I was convalescent, a packet edged in black was put in my hand.
It contained the news of my father's death, and a sealed letter which
he had requested to be given to me on his decease. I opened it
tremblingly. It read thus:--

"My dear Boy:--I regret to inform you that in all probability you are
not my son. Your mother, I am grieved to say, was a highly improper
person. Who your father may be, I really cannot say, but perhaps the
Honorable Henry Boltrope, Captain R. N., may be able to inform you.
Circumstances over which I have no control have deferred this important
disclosure.

"YOUR STRICKEN PARENT."

And so Captain Boltrope was my father. Heavens! Was it a dream? I
recalled his stern manner, his observant eye, his ill-concealed
uneasiness when in my presence. I longed to embrace him. Staggering to
my feet, I rushed in my scanty apparel to the deck, where Captain
Boltrope was just then engaged in receiving the Governor's wife and
daughter. The ladies shrieked; the youngest, a beautiful girl, blushed
deeply. Heeding them not, I sank at his feet, and, embracing them,
cried:--

"My father!"

"Chuck him overboard!" roared Captain Boltrope.

"Stay," pleaded the soft voice of Clara Maitland, the Governor's
daughter.

"Shave his head! he's a wretched lunatic!" continued Captain Boltrope,
while his voice trembled with excitement.

"No, let me nurse and take care of him," said the lovely girl, blushing
as she spoke. "Mamma, can't we take him home?"

The daughter's pleading was not without effect. In the mean time I had
fainted. When I recovered my senses I found myself in Governor
Maitland's mansion.

CHAPTER VII.

The reader