ace
returned to town.

It was late now, and the sun was preparing to take its last dip behind
the western hills; so I was forced to bid my charming hostesses adieu,
and amid many good wishes and a waving of handkerchiefs, departed to
seek my waterman, to begin my trip across the bay.

The town became a blur, a dark mass behind us, broken by the twinkling
of the lights through the gloom, as we swiftly glided down the Severn
before the wind. Out upon the bay it was still light, and we steered
for the north point of the Isle of Kent. The wind was fresh. With all
sail set we skimmed the water before it, and ere many hours had passed
we saw the light through the gloom of Rock Hall straight ahead. But
the old waterman suddenly brought his helm around hard, and pointed
her nose for the wide mouth of the Chester close at hand.

"What is wrong?" I asked, and for an answer he pointed with his arm to
where against the sky were outlined the tapering masts of a large
vessel lying between us and Rock Hall.

"That is a man-of-war," he said, "we will have to run up the river to
Chestertown."

"Agreed," said I, right readily, for I thought I might see Mistress
Jean once more before I went back to the front.

The mouth of the Chester was soon gained, and for hours, through the
stillness of the night, we glided over its smooth waters, between low,
heavily wooded banks, or the broad sweeping fields of some plantation,
whose boundaries were lapped by the waters of the river. In the early
morning, in the dusky gray hours, we ran along beside the wharf of the
old county seat of Kent.

CHAPTER XIII

THE GREETING OF FAIR LIPS

After wandering through the streets of this old town during the early
hours of the morning, seeing it gradually wake into life and take on
the quiet bustle of the day, I at last found myself before the inn,
which had just been opened.

The host was an old friend, and we were soon fighting over the battles
again, when a shadow fell across us and I sprang to my feet.

It was Capt. James Nicholson, one of the three brothers who fought
their ships in sunshine and in storm, while there was a plank left for
them to stand upon, carrying dismay through the English fleets by
their desperate courage and daring. He was a man about forty years
old, over medium height, but slender and of fair complexion, with
light blue eyes and reddish hair, a typical descendant of that old
Viking, Nicholson, who fought some fa