He arrived just after the battle of Lexington, and soon shipped aboard a
privateer. Again it was the old story of a rash lover laughing at death,
seeking the grim monster who seemed to avoid him. His ship was so
successful, that in a short time each of the crew was rich from prize
money. Four years and a half of war found Felix Lane commander of the
most daring privateer on the ocean. He was already wealthy and continued
by fresh prizes to add to his immense fortune. The merchant marine of
Great Britain dreaded his ship, the _Sea Rover_, more than the whole
American navy. Lane was one of the most expert seamen on the ocean, and
might have had a high office in the regular navy, had he not found this
semi-piratical business more lucrative.

One day his vessel sighted a large merchantman, off the coast of Spain,
and engaged it in a terrible conflict. The merchantman carried twice as
many people and heavier guns than the _Sea Rover_; but by the skilful
management of his ship Captain Lane continued to rake her fore and aft
until she was forced to strike her colors. When the conqueror went
aboard, he found the splintered deck a scene of horror. Cordage,
shrouds, broken spars and dead and dying men strewed the deck. Near the
gangway was a middle-aged man holding in his arms a girl mortally
wounded in the conflict. He recognized her in a moment, and the scene
which followed tried all the powers of the old yarn-spinner's
descriptive faculties. He held her in his arms and wept and prayed until
her life was extinct. It was said that she recognized him and that she
died with a sweet smile on her face, pointing upward to a place of
reunion. The father, who had survived the conflict, was released, and
Captain Felix continued his career a sadder and better man.

Whether this story was true or not, no one can at this day tell, for