"Yes, zur."
"What place is it?"
"Mariana."
"Mariana," repeated Fernando, "I have heard that name before. Where was
it? Mariana,--Mariana."
Terrence came forward to his companions and said:
"Now, lads, like as not the frinds of Matson may be afther following
us. Lave it all to me. We'll change our names and go up to the tavern,
where we'll hire rooms and be gintlemen traveling for pleasure."
"Would they dare follow us on shore?"
"No; I think not; but if they should, my plan will answer."
When they ran into shore, Terrence paid the boatman and discharged him.
Terrence was the son of a rich Irish merchant in Philadelphia, who kept
his son liberally supplied with money, who, with corresponding
liberality, spent it.
Terrence felt that this was his scrape, and he resolved to bear the
expenses.
With his friends, he went to the tavern, where they engaged rooms.
Fernando and Sukey retired to their rooms, while Terrence remained in
the tap-room, where there was a crowd of Marylanders. He began telling
them a most horrible story of the impressment of himself and his friends
by a British vessel and of their recent escape. He stated that they had
been closely pursued, and he would not be surprised if the Britishers
sent a boat on shore to take them away.
He could not have chosen a better theme to inflame those Marylanders.
One tall, raw-boned man, who carried a rifle and bullet pouch with
him, said:
"Boys, that reminds us mightily o' Dick Long.
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