tannic majesty's ship of the line, Yarmouth, Captain Vincent.
Who are you? Answer, or I will fire!"

The flying boom of the Randolph was just pointing past the Yarmouth's
quarter, and the two ships were abreast each other; now, if ever, was
the time for action.

"This is the American Continental ship, Randolph, Captain Seymour,"
cried the latter, through the trumpet, in a voice heard in every part
of the ship of the line.

At least two hearts in the Yarmouth were powerfully affected by that
announcement. Katharine's leaped within her bosom at the sound of her
lover's voice, and beat madly while she revelled in thought in his
proximity; and then as she noticed again the fearful odds with which he
was apparently about to contend, her heart sank into the depths once
more. In one second she thrilled with pride, quivered with love,
trembled with despair. He was there--he was hers--he would be killed!
She gripped the rail hard and clenched her teeth to keep from screaming
aloud his name, while her gaze strained out upon his handsome figure.
Pride, love, death,--an epitome of human life in that fleeting
moment,--all were hers!

On the main-deck of the frigate the name carried consternation to
Lieutenant Lord Desborough. So Seymour was alive again! Was that the
end of my lord's chance? No. Joy! The rebel was under the guns of
the battle-ship! Never, vowed the lieutenant, should guns be better
served than those under his command. Unless the man surrendered, he
was doomed. So, he spoke eagerly to his men, bidding them take good
aim and waste no shot, never doubting the inevitable issue. These
thoughts took but a moment, however. Beauchamp, who had done the
talking, now stepped aft to Captain Vincent's side, and replied to
Seymour's hail by calling out,--

"Do you strike, sir?"

"Yes, yes, of course; that's what we came down here for. We'll strike
fast enough," was the answer.

A broad smile lighted up Captain Vincent's face; he turned to the
colonel, laughing, and said with a scarcely veiled sneer,--

"I told you they were not up to it. The cad! he might have fired one
shot at least for the honor of his flag, don't you see?"

The colonel with a sinking heart could not see at all. Cowardice in
Seymour, in any officer, was a thing he could not understand. The
world turned black before Katharine. What! strike without a blow! Was
this her hero? Rather death than a coward! In spite of her faith in
her