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intensity of his excitement, his thoughts flew through his mind with a vividness and a swiftness that made him almost feel that he was tasting a new and higher kind of existence. Spiritual things were as real to him as his own identity, and the God in whom he trusted seemed at his side as a familiar friend. Of his mother too he could think without a tear. He was sure that if left childless, she would be comforted and sustained and gently led along her lonely pathway. Had he not been fulfilling her oft-repeated counsel, to fear nothing but sin? Had he not vindicated that love of his native land, which she had taught him should be next to his allegiance to God? She might never know his fate. Yet she would mourn for him as for one who died in his effort to fulfil the duties of his absent father, and risked his own life to save the human freight of a ship from wreck and sure destruction.
    Daylight brought but a feeble glimmer to Blair’s dark prison-house, yet he welcomed it as the assurance of dawn—dawn which is ever welcome to the watcher, though it may usher in a day of double danger.

CHAPTER IX.
    A REWARD
    Hal was still in the deep sleep into which he had fallen, when the bolts of their place of confinement were withdrawn. Blair’s clear bright eyes looked full in the face of the English commander, who now stood before him.
    â€œGive me your hand, my boy,” said the captain. “I can respect bravery wherever I find it. I honor you for your determined courage. Tell me, who taught you so to love your country?”
    Blair’s hand still hung at his side as he answered, “My mother, sir; the best of mothers. She would rather have me die in the right cause, than live a traitor.”
    â€œYou will not give me your hand? Perhaps I do not deserve it; but it was not cruelty which prompted me to act as I did last evening. I felt our danger, and scrupled not to use any means which should bring you to terms. Your constancy triumphed. I knew that no threats could force such a spirit. You shall not lose your reward, in the knowledge of the service you have done your home and your kindred. My orders were to get into the harbor of Fairport, to take possession of the naval stores there belonging to privateersmen, and then to reduce the town to ashes.”
    For the first time Blair’s eyes filled with tears, and his chest swelled with strong emotion as he exclaimed, “Thank God, I have been able to be useful to my country and my home. This will fill my mother’s heart with joy. To her I owe all in me that is worthy of praise.”
    â€œI believe I can trust you, my lad,” said the captain. “I would not willingly have my name go out as one who would maim and torture a brave lad. My desperation is my excuse for my expedient of last evening. I want you to promise to keep that scene a secret. You may perchance some day have your own sins to cover. I have been reckoned brave and honorable, and I would not have my fair name tarnished. Will you promise?”
    â€œI forgive you from my heart. I promise,” said Blair, frankly extending his hand.
    â€œSuch a mother as yours can be trusted,” said the English commander, warmly grasping the offered hand. “She must know how her son did her honor in his hour of danger. Tell her the story, but let her keep it to herself. The true patriot, my boy, is willing to suffer for his country, though he win no glory from his sufferings. Are you equal to such a sacrifice?”
    â€œI own I should like to be known as one who had done something for his native land,” said Blair; “but it will do me good, and make me the purer patriot, I trust, to have only my mother’s praise, if we ever meet again.”
    â€œ You shall be released at the earliest opportunity; but this your companion must stay with us. I wish he was of the stuff that you are. We would make a British tar of him, who would do us honor. His tongue tells the story