Chapter 35

"Come, all you kindred chieftains of the deep,
In mighty phalanx round your brother bend;
Hush every murmur that invades his sleep--
And guard the laurels that o'ershade your friend."
_Lines on Tripp_.

Here, perhaps, it would be wise to suffer the curtain of our imperfect
drama to fall before the reader, trusting that the imagination of every
individual can readily supply the due proportions of health, wealth, and
happiness, that the rigid rules of poetic justice would award to the
different characters of the legend. But as we are not disposed to part
so coldly from those with whom we have long held amicable intercourse,
and as there is no portion of that in reservation which is not quite as
true as all that has been already related, we see no unanswerable reason
for dismissing the dramatis personae so abruptly. We shall, therefore,
proceed to state briefly the outlines of that which befell them in
after-life, regretting, at the same time, that the legitimate limits of
a modern tale will not admit of such dilatation of many a merry or
striking scene as might create the pleasing hope of beholding hereafter
some more of our rude sketches quickened into life by the spirited
pencil of Dunlap.

Following the course of the frigate, then, towards those shores from
which, perhaps, we should never have suffered our truant pen to have
wandered, we shall commence the brief task with Barnstable, and his
laughing, weeping, gay, but affectionate bride--the black-eyed
Katherine. The ship fought her way gallantly, through swarms of the
enemy's cruisers, to the port of Boston, where Barnstable was rewarded
for his services by promotion, and a more regular authority to command
his vessel.

During the remainder of the war, he continued to fill that station with
ability and zeal; nor did he return to the dwelling of his fathers,
which he soon inherited by regular descent, until after peace had
established not only the independence of his country, but his own
reputation as a brave and successful sea-officer. When the Federal
Government laid the foundation of its present navy, Captain Barnstable
was once more tempted by the offer of a new commission to desert his
home; and for many years he was employed among that band of gallant
seamen who served their country so faithfully in times of trial and high
daring. Happily, however, he was enabled to accomplish a great deal of
the more peaceful part of his service accompanied by Katherine, who,
having no children, eagerly profited by his consent to share his
privations and hardships on the ocean. In this manner they passed
merrily, and we trust happily down the vale of life together, Katherine
entirely discrediting the ironical prediction of her former