"Young Yankee puppies," observed one, turning to his companions.

"Rather airy,--I should say breezy," was the rejoinder.

Before long, the fun grew fast and furious at the middies' table; laughter and even the s.n.a.t.c.h of a song broke from them. Pretty soon one of the English officers arose--the one who had first noticed their presence. He walked over to their table, and rapped on the edge with the hilt of his sword.

"Less noise, less noise here!" he said.

Bainbridge was about to spring to his feet, when Raymond restrained him. "Have a care," he said softly.

No one noticed the Englishman's presence, and slightly abashed he returned to his seat. But he covered his confusion with an air of bravado. "Taught 'em a lesson," he sn.i.g.g.e.red.

In a few minutes the whole party had adjourned to the play-house.

Carlotti sang her best, every one was enjoying the music and anxious for more, when the curtain fell on the first act. The _Const.i.tution_ lads applauded so long that one might have thought they wished to have the whole thing over again, which they would have liked exceedingly.

But seeing at last that the prima donna would not respond,--she had been out five times,--the lads arose and strutted into the lobby in a body.

"There's that officious Britisher," said Bainbridge, nodding his head toward a group of scarlet coats that stood blocking up a doorway.

"Oh, I just heard about him," put in one of the smallest reefers. "He's Tyrone Tyler, the dead shot,--I overheard some one pointing him out.

He's killed eleven men, they say."

The officer in question was tall and exceedingly slender, and he might have been called good-looking if it were not for the insolent eyes, the leering mouth, and arrogant chin that made him so conspicuous. He made some remark that caused the others to laugh as he put up his eyegla.s.s and stared into the faces of the Yankee middies. Some reddened and dropped their glances, but Bainbridge returned the stare with interest.

The Englishman frowned and let his gla.s.s fall from his eye.

"Care for cub-hunting, Twombly?" he inquired of a red-faced man at his elbow. "Here's a chance for you!"

The midshipmen heard this, but said nothing, and soon they were all lost in the theatre crowd.

During the next intermission all kept their seats but Raymond and Bainbridge, who again strolled out. The taller lad, who looked some years older than his age, which was but nineteen, attracted some attention; many looks of admiration were thrown at him as he pa.s.sed through the lobby. Suddenly he collided with somebody, who pushed him off.

"Beg pardon," said Bainbridge, making way.

There was no reply, and the lad's handsome brows contracted as he saw the evil face of Captain Tyrone Tyler smiling sneeringly at him. In the course of a few minutes they met again, and once more came together.

"Beg pardon, sir."

The words had a peculiar intonation this time. They were spoken in the tone of voice one uses when compelled to move something that may disturb another. Bainbridge lifted the infantry captain past with a firm grasp on both his elbows. He moved him as easily as one might lift a lashed hammock to one side.

"Beg pardon, sir," said he again.

The officer grew livid, and had it not been that some one grasped his arm, he would have struck the midshipman across the face. But Bainbridge and Raymond moved quickly away.

As they turned to leave the hall after the performance was over the word was brought that Tyler and three others were waiting at the entrance. After a consultation it was agreed that it would be best to remain, and avoid a meeting if possible. So talking in low voices, the midshipmen stayed on until warned by the dimming lights that the place was being closed. At last a plan was settled on. Bainbridge, who was eager to go out first, was persuaded to remain with Raymond, and follow shortly after the others had left. They singled out, and when the last two stepped past the door, Tyler was still waiting.

"Now for the training," said he, stepping forward. As he spoke he put one elbow in Bainbridge's face, and with the other grasped for his collar.

But he reckoned wrongly. The middy ducked quickly and picked up his cap that had been pushed off by the blow. Then he straightened himself.

"You are a cowardly bully," he said calmly. "But I understand you. My card, sir; I am at your service."

As he spoke, he extended a bit of engraved pasteboard. Captain Tyler took it, handed it to one of his friends, and gave his name, adding:--

"I trust that you will meet me on the beach under the west fort to-morrow morning at nine o'clock."

"Can you make it earlier?"

"Certainly; at eight, then."

The Englishman laughed as he moved off with his companions.

"Be on hand, my young monkey jacket; I should hate to be turned out so early for nothing."

"Never fear," was Bainbridge's return.

"Oh, Joseph, what have you done?" wailed little Raymond, suddenly.

"They will never let you off the ship, and we've broken orders, and are in a frightful mess."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'I observed it,' said the Lieutenant."]

"I'm not going on board again, Sammy; I'm to meet that bully, and I will do it. It's either disgrace or death, and I'm reckless now. But run along, you; leave me to myself."

"I shall stay if you do," replied Raymond, stoutly. "It will never be said that----"

"Come, young gentlemen, 'tis about time you were making for the boat.

Commodore Preble's orders were very strict; don't forget them."

The speaker was a tall, graceful young man, wrapped in a long watch-cloak. It was Stephen Decatur, the First Lieutenant, and the idol of the ship. He descended the few steps from the entrance to the lobby, and continued as he acknowledged the midshipmen's salute:--

"Come, let's all be moving--stir your stumps now, Mr. Raymond."

As they reached the archway of the pier, Bainbridge held back.

"Come, Mr. Bainbridge, a word with you," said Decatur, taking the lad kindly by the arm. He was but five or six years the senior, but his manner was almost fatherly. "Have you anything to tell me?"

"Yes, sir. I have broken orders."

"I observed it," said the Lieutenant. "Have you anything else to say."

"Yes, sir; unless you insist, I'd rather stay on sh.o.r.e to-night."

"You will return to the ship."

"Very good, sir."

In silence the party was rowed back, and in silence they climbed the side and came on deck.

Then the First Lieutenant spoke. "Mr. Bainbridge, wait on deck here until my return."