s, could
carry consternation to the whole British army! For the captors had,
apparently, taken the oath of allegiance to the captured, and the whole
ship's company, from that gruff old sailor Captain Vincent down through
all the other officers to the impudent and important little midshipman,
were her devoted slaves. Even Jack forward, usually entirely
unresponsive to the doings aft on the quarterdeck, put on an extra
flourish or so, and damning his eyes, after the manner of the
unsophisticated sailorman, gazed appreciatively upon her beauty,
envying those fortunate mortals privileged to radiate about her person.
Vincent might be the captain, but Katharine was certainly the queen of
the ship. Colonel Wilton, too, shone, not altogether by reflected
lustre either; and the considerate officers had done everything
possible to make him forget that he was a prisoner.

Early one afternoon in the beginning of February, the Yarmouth, being
under all plain sail with the wind two or three points abaft the beam,
was bowling along under a fresh breeze about a day's sail east of
Martinique. The weather was perfect, and because of the low latitude,
in spite of the winter season, there was no touch of sharpness in the
air, which was warm and delightful. All the necessary drills and
exercises having been concluded earlier in the day, the whole ship's
company was enjoying a period of unusual relaxation and idleness. The
men at the wheel, the lookouts kept constantly at the mastheads, the
marines doing sentry duty, with the midshipmen of the watch and the
officer of the deck busily pacing to and fro, were the only people, out
of the six hundred and odd men who made up the ship's complement, who
presented any appearance of activity whatever. The men of the watch on
and the watch off, dinner being over, were sitting or lounging about in
all sorts of easy attitudes,--some of them busy with their needles;
others overhauling their clothes-bags, to which they had been given
access that afternoon; others grouped about some more brilliant
story-teller than the rest, eagerly drinking in the multifarious
details of some exciting personal experience, or romantic adventure, or
never-ending story of shipwreck or battle, or mystery--technically,
yarns! Colonel Wilton was standing aft with Captain Vincent in the
shadow of the spanker. Miss Wilton, with Chloe, her black maid, behind
her chair, was sitting near the break of the poop-deck, lookin