That was no gun of battle but a signal
of distress.
"What is it?" cried Captain Lane.
"It's the _Xenophon_. I fear she cannot weather the storm."
Then they listened for an hour or more to the occasional boom of a
cannon.
"She's comin' right in on the stony point sou'east o' the bay," cried
Captain Lane.
Fernando started to his feet and said:
"We must go to their rescue."
At this Morgianna, who had been ministering to the wounded, entered and
said:
"Are they not enemies?"
"Yes, but fellow-creatures, also. Those signal guns call out humanity,
and the bravest are the most humane," said Fernando.
"I am glad you said that!" she remarked as Fernando hurriedly left the
shelter in which the captain lay.
Day dawned and the _Xenophon_ was a broken wreck scattered along the
Maryland coast. Occasionally a bruised and bleeding form was picked up
senseless or dead among the rocks, or on the beach. Sukey was busiest
among the searchers; but the scenes of horror and suffering which
everywhere met his view changed his hatred to pity.
At last he came upon a poor, bruised, thoroughly soaked,
wretched-looking man lying among some rocks, where the angry waves and
receding tide had left him. His once elegant uniform was now rotten,
dirty rags. One gold epaulet was gone, and the other was so
mud-besmeared that one could scarce tell what it was composed of.
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