that nothing
could efface. It absorbed his mind and brought it into a healthier
state of reflection than it had yet been.

"I have placed myself in this position by a rash act," he said to
himself, as he turned, sick at heart, away from the painful and
disgusting sight. "And all rebellion against the authority around me
will but make plainer my own weakness. I have degraded myself; but
there is a lower degradation still, and that I must avoid. Drag me
to the gangway, and I am lost!"

Strict obedience and submission was from that time self-compelled on
the part of Mark Clifford. It was not without a strong effort,
however, that he kept down the fiery spirit within him. A word of
insolent command--and certain of the young midshipmen on board could
not speak to a senior even if he were old as their father, except in
a tone of insult--would send the blood boiling through his veins.

It was only by the narrowest chances that Mark escaped punishment
during the first six months of the cruise, which was in the Pacific.
If he succeeded in bridling his tongue, and restraining his hands
from violence he could not hide the indignant flash of his eyes, nor
school the muscles of his face into submission. They revealed the
wild spirit of rebellion that was in his heart. Intelligent
promptness in duty saved him.

This was seen by his superior officers, and it was so much in his
favor when complaints came from the petty tyrants of the ship who
sometimes shrunk from the fierce glance that in a moment of
struggling passion would be cast upon them. After a trying ordeal of
six months, he was favored by one of the officers who saw deeper
than the rest; and gathered from him a few hints as to his true
character. In pitying him, he made use of his influence to save him
from some of the worst consequences of his position.

Jenny Lawson was a changed girl after her brief meeting with Mark
Clifford. Before, she had been as light hearted and gay as a bird.
But, her voice was no longer heard pouring forth the sweet melodies
born of a happy heart. Much of her time she sought to be alone; and
when alone, she usually sat in a state of dreamy absent-mindedness.
As for her thoughts, they were most of the time on Clifford. His
hand had stirred the waters of affection in her gentle bosom; and
they knew no rest. Mr. Lofton frequently sent for her to come over
to the mansion house. He never spoke to her of Mark; nor did she
mention his name--though