"That's true; and I have suffered from it myself," replied Somers, determined that his companion should want no inducement to make his proposition as soon as he was ready.
"I don't doubt it, Mr. Somers;" and Mr. Wynkoop stated some instances which had come to his knowledge.
Somers then gave a list of his own imaginary grievances, and professed to be greatly dissatisfied with his present position and prospects.
"I think you would do better in the Confederate navy," said the lieutenant, warmly.
"Whichever side you fight for, you fight for your own country."
"When the South wins,--as win she will,--all who fought against her, will be like prophets in their own country--without honor. In less than two months the independence of the Confederate States will be acknowledged by England and France. I happen to know this."
"My uncle, the Earl of--never mind; I won't mention his name--my uncle, who is an intimate friend of Palmerston, told me so."
Somers was rather glad to hear it, for it would bring the desolating war to a close. Mr. Wynkoop hesitated no longer. He approached the real business of the meeting rapidly, and in a few moments the commander's commission was on the table. The offer was made, and Somers, with such apparent qualms of conscience as a naval officer might be expected to exhibit on deserting his flag, accepted the proposition. Mr. Wynkoop went into his sleeping apartment, adjoining the parlor, with the commission in his hand.
He returned in a moment with the name of "John Somers," filled in the blank space left for that purpose, and handed it to his guest.
Somers shuddered when he saw his name written upon such an infernal document; for though he was still true to God, his country, and himself, the paper had an ugly look. But he regarded it only as evidence against the conspirators, rather than against himself; as a necessary formality to enable him to frustrate the designs of traitors, rather than as a blot against his own name.
"Mr. Somers, I congratulate you. If you could be induced to join me in a glass of this old sherry, we would drink to the success of the Louisiana--for that is to be the name of your craft when you get to sea."
"I thank you, Mr. Wynkoop; you must excuse me."