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.
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