"No, sir; far be it from me. I wouldn't prolong the war a single day, if that day would make me an admiral."

"Only one day, Tom?" said Somers, with a smile.

"Not one, sir!" repeated the veteran, with emphasis. "For on that day a husband or a father, a brother or a son, might be killed, and I should be a murderer before G.o.d."

"What do you think of those, then, that began this war?"

"They are murderers! The blood of every man who has been killed in this war on both sides rests on their heads. I'd rather be Cain than Jeff Davis, or any other man of his crew."

"I think you are right, Tom."

"As for me, it don't make much difference whether I'm a boatswain or an admiral. This old hulk won't stand many more storms; and I wouldn't do a mean thing for the sake of living twenty years. Well, well," sighed the veteran, as he glanced in the direction from which the roar of the artillery came, "many a good fellow will lose the number of his mess to-day."

"Hundreds of them."

And so the reports of the succeeding days a.s.sured them. The rebels had stormed and temporarily possessed themselves of Fort Steadman. The terrible conflict was opened in earnest; and from that time, swarms of prisoners were sent forward to the river, which were guarded by detachments of sailors and marines from the fleet.

For three days the storm of war continued to howl in the distance, and on the peaceful Sabbath more fiercely than before. Vague rumors were flying through the fleet, and everybody felt that the end was at hand.

Somers retired as usual that night; but in the first watch, Tom Longstone came down to him with report of great lights and heavy explosions in the direction of Richmond.

The rebels were evacuating the city, blowing up their iron-clads, and firing the town. Richmond, which had defied the armies of the Union for four years, had fallen. The heroic and persevering Grant had struck a blow miles away, which tumbled down the last stronghold of treason. Jeff Davis and his cabinet were fugitives now, fleeing from men, while the wrath of G.o.d pursued where men could not reach them.

The morning came, and with it the glad tidings of victory, which foreshadowed peace. The Firefly was ordered to move up the river, and she went up into waters where a loyal steamer had not floated for four years. The negro troops were even then marching through the streets of Richmond. The note of rejoicing, begun in the early morning, was continued through the day. The brightest flags and the heaviest guns proclaimed the joyful event.

The Firefly went up to Varina, and then returned. This river was clear; there was no sign of an enemy upon its waters. At City Point the sounds of rejoicing thrilled upon the ear of soldier and sailor. Cheer upon cheer rent the air, gun upon gun roared the paean of triumph, and every heart beat in unison with the glad acclaim.

"Glory, hallelujah!" shouted Somers, on the quarter deck of the Firefly, as she pa.s.sed through the fleet.

"Glory, hallelujah!" returned all who heard him.

Three rousing cheers, such as Jack only can give, came from the flag-ship, as the Firefly ran under her counter.

"What's that?" asked Somers--for there seemed to be something unusual going on.

Calling his gig, he went on board the flag-ship to report the result of his visit up the river. On the quarter deck he discovered a familiar face, which thrilled his heart with delight. It was "Brave Old Salt."

Somers approached the vice admiral, cap in hand, and was immediately recognized.

"Mr. Somers, I am delighted to see you!" said the admiral, extending his hand.

"Thank you, sir," replied the young commander. "This is an unexpected happiness to me."

"There is only one joy to-day, Mr. Somers," continued the admiral.

"Richmond has fallen, and the rebellion is ended!"

"Glory, hallelujah!" said Somers, waving his cap.

"I came down here to learn what Grant was doing. G.o.d bless him! He has done everything," added the admiral.

Rear Admiral Porter now ordered the Firefly to be placed at the disposal of the Old Salamander, and Somers was happy in the duty a.s.signed to him.

A twelve-oar barge received the vice admiral, and conveyed him to the steamer in which his voyage was to be continued. When he was on board, the barge was towed astern for his use farther up the river.

The Firefly steamed up the river with her ill.u.s.trious pa.s.senger, and at the invitation of the admiral, Somers accompanied him to Richmond.

A day later came President Lincoln in a barge, attended by Admiral Porter, and Somers had the honor of being formally presented to the chief magistrate of the nation, who had a pleasant word for him, as he had for all who approached him. Somers a.s.sisted in the ovation to the president, and listened with wonder and delight to the shouts of the negroes, as they greeted the author of the Emanc.i.p.ation Proclamation as the saviour and redeemer of their race.

Ten days later, that simple, great man fell by the hand of the a.s.sa.s.sin, though not till the news of the surrender of Lee's army had gladdened his heart, and a.s.sured him that the great work of his lifetime was finished.

Somers was shocked, stunned by the fearful news, the more so that he had so recently pressed the hand of the ill.u.s.trious martyr; and though the nation was full of mourners, there were none more sincere in their grief than the young commander of the Firefly. He wept as he would have wept for his own father; and shutting himself up in his cabin, in solemn fast, he read his Bible and prayed for the land he loved. How many true souls did the same, when they heard of the awful tragedy!

The war was ended. A few days later came the news of Johnston's surrender. One by one, the gunboats were ordered north, and in June the Firefly dropped her anchor off the navy yard at Charlestown. A few hours later Somers was in the arms of the loved ones at home, weeping tears of joy that the sound of strife was no more heard in the land.

The Firefly was no longer needed in the navy, and with a hundred others she was sold. As soon as she went out of commission, Tom Longstone, having been "honorably discharged with the thanks of the department" as an ensign, returned to his former rank of boatswain. When he obtained a furlough, he paid a visit to Pinchbrook, where he was kindly received by all the friends of his _protege_. The old man had money enough to buy him a farm and retire from the navy; but he obstinately refused to do so while Somers retained his commission. He confidently expected to be appointed boatswain of the ship to which Lieutenant Somers might be ordered.

During his absence Somers had received occasional letters from Kate Portington; and we will not undertake to say how many reams of fine note paper he spoiled in saying what can be of interest to none but the parties concerned. Of course there was any quant.i.ty of liquid moonshine spread out on these dainty sheets, and the young man was all the happier for writing it, as she was for reading it, for Kate and Somers had come to an excellent understanding with each other on these matters.

At the earliest day the public service would admit, he hastened to Newport; but on his arrival he found the commodore's house filled with grief and lamentation. The husband and the father--the kindest of husbands and the tenderest of fathers--had been suddenly stricken down in New Orleans, where his ship was stationed. The sad tidings had come but a few hours before; and a few hours later it had flashed all over the land that one of the nation's truest defenders had fallen at the post of duty.

In her grief Kate clung to Somers, who became the tenderest of comforters. Then she learned, when earth was dark to her, what a wealth of holy hope and pious faith there was in the soul of him she had chosen from the whole world to lean upon in joy and in sorrow, in prosperity and adversity, till life's fitful dream was over. Fondly she looked up to him in her heavy affliction, and through him to the heaven of which he spoke. He wept with her for him who was gone, and if she had loved him before, she reverenced him now.

Two weeks after the news came a steamer bearing the remains of the deceased commodore. Then the tears broke out afresh, and Somers continued to perform the holy office he had chosen. With the bereaved child--the only one--he stood at the tomb, and helped her to see the glory that streamed forth beyond its dark portals. Every day, for weeks after, he visited her, never now to speak of his own selfish heart yearnings, but to utter words of peace and hope. When he announced his intention to return home, she could not restrain her tears, so needful had he become to her in the depth of her sorrow.

In the autumn her mother and herself came to Boston to spend the winter.

Kate was cheerful now, but the affliction through which she had pa.s.sed had given a shade of pensive sadness to her beautiful face, which time alone could wear away. They attended the wedding of Major Somers, John's brother, and rejoiced with him as he put the cup of bliss to his lips. Lilian and Kate became fast friends; they were nearer alike now than before the death of Commodore Portington.

The winter pa.s.sed away, and early in March Lieutenant Somers was appointed to a ship bound to the Pacific Ocean. He must be absent two or three years. He hastened to Kate with the intelligence; and sad as it was to himself, he knew it would be infinitely more so to her. She turned pale, and burst into tears. Her mother was hardly less affected.

"You must not go, John! O, no! You will not leave me!"

"I must obey orders."

"You can resign," suggested Mrs. Portington.

"Resign!" exclaimed Somers. "Resign when I am ordered to difficult or disagreeable duty."

"You need not make so much of it," added the matron, with a smile.

"There are twice as many officers in the navy as are required. It is certainly no disgrace, in time of peace, to resign. You will only make a place for another who wants to visit the Pacific."

"You must resign, John," pleaded Kate, with an eloquence which he could not resist.

"On one condition I will do so," replied he, at last. "If there should be war, I shall return to my post, if needed."

And thus it was that Somers left the navy. His prize money, which had been carefully invested from time to time by Captain Barney, now amounted to more than twenty thousand dollars. He was able to retire, and he did so.

It is generally understood that they are to be married in the autumn, when Mr. Somers will receive half a million with his wife, who is worth a million times that sum herself. As the happy event has not yet occurred, we have nothing to say about it, but we wish them every joy in antic.i.p.ation. Mrs. Portington speaks hopefully of the occasion, and has already selected a location, in the vicinity of Boston, where the happy young couple are to reside.

This event has decided Tom Longstone. He has thrown up his warrant, and bought a farm in Pinchbrook, on which he intends to "lay up" for the rest of his life. A niece, who lost her husband in the war, is his housekeeper, and at the time of Somers's last visit, the veteran was at the high tide of felicity.