village of fishermen, which, in 1837, was totally destroyed by fire, and
has never been rebuilt. Before the war of 1812, it was a neat,
flourishing little town.

"Is this the town you were spakin' about?" asked Terrence of the
boatman.

"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.