rders first hereafter,--'t
is the first principle of action on the sea." That was rather cool
comfort for the young officer, considering that his somewhat reckless
action had just saved Seymour's life. He made brief reply, however,
and then resumed his station on the deck of his little vessel, which
was rapidly overhauling the rest of the fleet. As soon as the night
fell, the wind permitting, they were by Seymour's direction headed for
the harbor of Charleston once more. Now that his mind was free again,
Seymour's thoughts turned to that woman's form of which he had one
brief glimpse ere the line-of-battle ship disappeared in the smoke.
Could it indeed have been Katharine Wilton? Could fate play him such a
trick as to awaken once more his sleeping hope? Through the long night
he tossed in fevered unrest in his narrow berth. Again he went over
the awful scenes of that one hour of horror. The roar of the guns, the
crash of splintered timbers, the groans of the wounded men, rang in his
fretted ear. They seemed to rise before him, those gallant officers
and men, the hardy, bold sailors, veterans of the sea, audacious
youngsters with life long before them, Bentley, his old, his faithful
friend,--lost--all lost. Was there reproach in their gaze? Was it
worth while, after all? Ay, but duty; he had always done his
duty--duty always--duty-- Ah, they faded away, and Katharine looked
down upon--it was she--love--duty--love--duty! Was that the roar of
battle again, or only his beating heart? They found him in the
morning, delirious, shouting orders, murmuring words of love, calling
Kate,--babbling like a child.

CHAPTER XXXIX

_Three Pictures of the Sea_

A short time before sunset that same evening the Yarmouth was hove to,
and the hoarse cry of the boatswain and his mates was once more heard
through the ship, calling,--

"All hands! Bury the dead."

Skilled hands had been working earnestly all the afternoon to repair
the damage to the vessel; much had been accomplished, but much more
still remained to be done. However, night was drawing on, and it was
advisable to dispose of the dead bodies of those who had been killed in
the action, or who had died since of their wounds, without further
delay. Some of the sailmaker's mates had been busy during the
afternoon, sewing up the dead in new, clean hammocks, and weighting
each one with heavy shot at the feet to draw it down. The bodies were
laid in orderl