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 dispatches.

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

[figure description] Page 098.[end figure description]

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.

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.”

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