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“Will you grant me a favor?”

“Ask what you will, my child,” replied Mr. Lofton, with more than usual affection in his tones.

“Let me have fifty dollars.”

“Certainly. I know you will use it for a good purpose.”

Two days after this Jenny was in Washington. She made the journey alone, but without timidity or fear. Her purpose made her self-possessed and courageous. On arriving at the seat of government, Jenny inquired for the Secretary of the Navy. When she arrived at the Department over which he presided, and obtained an interview, she said to him, as soon as she could compose herself–

“The ship —- has been ordered home from the Pacific?”

“She arrived at Norfolk last night, and is now hourly expected at the Navy Yard,” replied the Secretary.

At this intelligence, Jenny was so much affected that it was some time before she could trust herself to speak.

“You have a brother on board?” said the Secretary.

“There is a young man on board,” replied Jenny, in a tremulous voice, “for whose discharge I have come to ask.”

The Secretary looked grave.

“At whose instance do you come?” he inquired.

“Solely at my own.”

“Who is the young man?”

“Do you know Marshal Lofton?”

“I do, by reputation, well. He belongs to a distinguished family in New York, to which the country owes much for service rendered in trying times.”

“The discharge I ask, is for his grandson.”

“Young Clifford, do you mean?” The Secretary looked surprised as he spoke. “He is not in the service.”

“He is on board the ship —- as a common sailor.”

“Impossible!”

“It is too true. In a moment of angry disappointment he took the rash step. And, since then, no communication has passed between him and his friends.”

The Secretary turned to the table near which he was sitting, and, after writing a few lines on a piece of paper, rung a small hand-bell for the messenger, who came in immediately.

“Take this to Mr J—-, and bring me an answer immediately.”

The messenger left the room, and the Secretary said to Jenny–

“Wait a moment or two, if you please.”

In a little while the messenger came back and handed the Secretary a memorandum from the clerk to whom he had sent for information.

“There is no such person as Clifford on board the ship —-, nor, in fact, in the service as a common sailor,” said the Secretary, addressing Jenny, after glancing at the memorandum he had received.

“Oh, yes, there is; there must be,” exclaimed the now agitated girl. “I received a letter from him at Valparaiso, dated on board of this ship. And, besides, he wrote home to his father, at the time he sailed, declaring what he had done.”

“Strange. His name doesn’t appear in the Department as attached to the service. Hark! There’s a gun. It announces, in all probability, the arrival of the ship —- at the Navy Yard.”

Jenny instantly became pale.

“Perhaps,” suggested the Secretary, “your best way will be to take a carriage and drive down, at once, to the Navy Yard. Shall I direct the messenger to call a carriage for you?”

“I will thank you to do so,” replied Jenny, faintly.

The carriage was soon at the door. Jenny was much agitated when she arrived at the Navy Yard. To her question as to whether the ship —- had arrived, she was pointed to a large vessel which lay moored at the dock. How she mounted its side she hardly knew; but, in what seemed scarcely an instant of time, she was standing on the deck. To an officer who met her, as she stepped on board, she asked for Mark Clifford.

“What is he? A sailor or marine?”

“A sailor.”

“There is no such person on board, I believe,” said the officer.

Poor Jenny staggered back a few paces, while a deadly paleness overspread her face. As she leaned against the side of the vessel for support, a young man, dressed as a sailor, ascended from the lower deck. Their eyes met, and both sprung towards each other.