THE STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER
Through the darkness until early dawn a strange procession wended its
way from the lodge in the woods to the decks of the long-deserted
houseboat.
Jeff stood at the door of their house, like a faithful sentry, to warn
them if danger approached. But the men who had been Jimmy's jailers
must have concluded to wait until dawn before coming for their
prisoner. They were so sure that he could not escape them.
All the most cherished possessions of the houseboat that had been
transferred to the little lodge were now transported to the "Merry
Maid" again. A few of their larger articles of furniture were left
behind as a thank-offering to the little lodge for the shelter it had
afforded them.
Not long before daylight seven wanderers crept down the path that had
been worn by the passing of the feet of the stranded girls. They
marched out into the shallow water and climbed up the side of the
houseboat. Phyllis Alden brought up the rear. She was half-leading,
half-pulling along the little fawn she had rescued in the woods. At the
last moment Phil had not been able to make up her mind to leave her pet
behind. The little creature had grown so used to her care that she was
afraid it would die without her.
Madge watched Phil's struggle, her eyes dancing with amusement. At the
edge of the water the deer stood stock still. Phyllis and Jimmy had to
drag the animal on to the boat.
"Phyllis had a little lamb, little lamb," sang Madge derisively.
When the first rosy streak of dawn shone in the sky the "Merry Maid"
was well away from land again. Again the tide bore her on its breast.
But how different the time and conditions!
Soon the sun rose gloriously, the blue waters danced and sparkled. The
atmosphere was clear as crystal.
The little band of voyagers watched the slowly receding shores of their
isle. They threw kisses across the water. As the land faded from sight
all their difficulties faded with it. The weeks on the deserted island
became the jolliest lark of their lives. It took its place at the top
of their list of happy memories.
No one on board the "Merry Maid" seemed to feel any fear for their
adventurous voyage. The morning spelled hope and good-luck. A returning
ship would bear them shoreward soon.
"Isn't the world lovely, Nellie?" asked Madge almost wistfully, as the
two cousins watched the sun change from a golden ball to an
all-enveloping light. "I feel that we will soon be home again and our
experiences will fade from us like a dream. I wonder if Mrs. Curtis and
Tom are still at Old Point Comfort? How they must have searched for us!
As for Uncle and Aunt, I can't bear to think of them."
Lieutenant Jimmy, Phil, Miss Jenny Ann, Lillian and Jeff were eagerly
scanning the water. If a ship should appear, it could be seen many
miles off on such a gloriously bright morning.
Lieutenant Jimmy had the precious rifle in his hand. In his pocket were
their last few rounds of ammunition. Lieutenant Lawton's face was as
radiant as though he were aboard one of Uncle Sam's own battleships. He
was free! The blue waters rolled beneath his feet. What did it matter
to a sailor the kind of a ship he sailed?
Phyllis Alden stood next to him. Her black eyes were bright with
courage and enthusiasm.
Together they saw first a great, gray cloud of smoke. It was too dark
and too low to be a part of the sky on such a morning. Then, moving
slowly toward them, still many miles away, appeared the dim outline of
a magnificent gray bulk of a ship.
Jimmy Lawton's face, which was white and thin from its long imprisonment,
flushed deeply. His voice shook when he turned to Phil.
"Miss Alden," he whispered quietly, "I am afraid to say so, but I
believe I see a man-of-war coming this way. It must be going in to
Hampton Roads. If it only comes near enough to hear us, I mean to fire
a signal of distress with this rifle."
The next quarter of an hour was a strenuous one for every passenger on
board the "Merry Maid."
[Illustration: The Battleship Drew Nearer.]
Slowly the majestic, gray craft drew nearer to the little houseboat.
The party crowded forward. No one spoke.
Nailed to their flagstaff, two torn and ragged sheets that had so long
appealed in vain for rescue flapped and rustled in the wind.
The women and Jeff saw Lieutenant Lawton raise the rifle to position.
Still he waited five, ten minutes. All this time the beautiful
battleship steamed nearer. Now her prow was just across the line of the
stern of the houseboat. The houseboat party could see the Stars and
Stripes floating gloriously in the breeze.
While it was easy for the passengers of the "Merry Maid" to behold an
immense battleship it was another matter for the crew on the man-of-war
to discover the small pleasure craft adrift on the waters.
Jimmy Lawton fired his rifle. The signal of distress rang sharp and
true. The clear air carried the sound magnificently.
At first there was no response from the battleship.
"She has not heard us!" exclaimed impatient Madge in despair.
"Wait!" commanded the young lieutenant.
A splendid boom broke on the air. It was the answering salute from the
war vessel. She had heeded the call of the "Merry Maid."
Jimmy repeated his signal of distress. A few moments after the great
battleship slowed down. A small boat was dropped over her side. A
boat's crew in their blue uniforms rowed swiftly out to the houseboat.
A voice called up: "Who's there, and what can we do for you?"
"Lieutenant James M. Lawton, U.S.N., with six friends, five of them
women," returned Jimmy Lawton. "We have drifted from land in a
houseboat and ask you to take us aboard."
Soon after Miss Jenny Ann and the girls were safe on board a battleship
belonging to the American Navy. The officer in command gave them his
hand of welcome. A group of sailors, their faces beaming with curiosity
and kindness, crowded as near them as discipline would permit.
The man-of-war took on headway again. Her engines thumped. The superb
ship began to move. The houseboat party knew that their peril was over.
Home and friends lay safe ahead of them.
Yet neither Miss Jenny Ann nor one of her four girls looked perfectly
happy.
"Won't you let me show you to your cabins?" one of the officers
suggested.
Reluctantly the five women turned away. But they could not help letting
their glances linger with mournful affection on the departing ghost of
the poor "Merry Maid." The little boat rocked forlornly on the waves,
once more deserted by her friends and owners.
Lieutenant Lawton whispered to Madge and Phyllis: "As soon as we get
into Hampton Roads I promise you to send out a schooner to search these
waters until she finds your houseboat. The 'Merry Maid' will be lonely
without her passengers, I've no doubt. But I do not believe that any
harm will come to her."
The man-of-war was expected to enter the harbor of Hampton Roads some
time during the afternoon. The girls sat on deck with the captain, who
showed them the distant lightship on Cape Charles, and finally the
point of land along the Virginia coast where the first English settlers
landed in America, on April 26, 1607.
Captain Moore was tremendously interested in the girls and their
adventures and experiences. When the ramparts of Fortress Monroe lay
off the quarter he reluctantly said good-bye. But he beckoned Madge
away from the other chums and walked with her slowly to the prow of his
great ship.
"Miss Morton," he said kindly, "I want to talk to you alone. Your
chaperon has told me something of your history. Your father was a
classmate of mine at Annapolis, and one of the best friends I ever
had."
Madge choked and was silent. She did not know what to say, what
questions to ask.
"I know that in after years your father got into serious trouble. He
was court-martialed because of cruelty to a subordinate," Captain Moore
went on. He shook his head gravely. "I never understood it. Robert
Morton was one of the kindest and tenderest of men. He was rash and
quick-tempered, but he never did a cruel trick as a boy, and a lad
shows the stuff the man is made of."
"Captain Moore!" Madge's voice shook, she was obliged to keep a tight
hold on the railing of the ship to steady herself, but she looked her
new friend squarely in the face, her own white with pain, "do you know
if my father is alive?"
Captain Moore was startled. "It can't be that you don't know that,
child?" he protested.
"But I don't," she said bravely. "I have always just taken it for
granted that he died when I was a baby, because I never saw him nor
heard from him. Lately I have had reason to think that he may just have
disappeared after his trouble. It has been so long that perhaps he may
have died since."
Captain Moore took her hand in his. He looked at her earnestly. She was
like the boy he remembered in the olden days, the same deep-toned
auburn hair, the same clear blue eyes and skin that flushed and paled
so readily, the same proud spirit.
"I do not know whether your father is dead or alive, child. I, too,
took it for granted that he was out of the world, as we saw him no
more. But I want to promise you one thing. From now on I will look for
him whether I am on land or on sea. Some day, somewhere, I shall hear
news of him. I wish you to remember that if ever you need a friend, you
have only to let me know. I am ashamed to think that I have let this
strange freak of circumstance find Robert Morton's daughter for me. I
should have looked you up years ago. Do you know what a fellow's chum
means to him when he is a boy at school?" Captain Moore queried, less
seriously. "Don't you think a man ought to wish to do something for that
fellow's little girl?"
Madge smiled. She knew that men hated tears. "Perhaps I shall ask you
to help me some day," she said. "I thank you for your interest and for
the splendid things you have said of my father. It is good to know that
some of his brother officers believe in him, and because you have had
faith in him I will tell you this much: my father was not guilty of the
charges laid at his door. In being true to his own code of honor he
lost his good name. There is only one person in the world who can give
it back to him, and because I respect my father's wishes my lips are
also sealed. But, alive or dead, Captain Robert Morton was or is
innocent."