Facing us, one hand resting on the table, stood a short, sturdy man in uniform.
Before I could speak, or do more than glance about the Interior, my eyes still blinded by the sudden blaze of light, he began questioning.
"Who are you?
how did you come to be adrift in these waters?
Answer up, sir--you 're no fisherman." "We escaped from a vessel last evening, sir." "Escaped! By Gad! are we in a state of war?
What do you mean by escaped--run away ?" "Yes, sir," and I stepped aside so he could see her more clearly.

"We were being held as prisoners." His eyes flashed to her face, rested an instant, and then his cap was in his hand.
"I beg your pardon, young lady," he said gravely, "but this is all most strange.

I could almost imagine this was a century or two earlier when pirates roamed these seas.

You were prisoners you say, and escaped." "Yes," I answered, before she could do so, "but you must pardon us details until we know who it is that questions us." "Oh, exactly; you are unaware of the nature of this vessel." "Yes, sir." "Well, this is the revenue cutter _Saline_, which I have the honor to command." I understood the situation in a flash, my heart leaping in fierce anticipation.
"Mr.Smith, assist the lady to a chair, and have the steward bring a glass of wine.

Now, sir, are you ready to answer." "I am; we were prisoners on board the _Sea Gull_.