From a hint given him by Commodore Lucien, Mark had devoted himself to certain studies, so that there should be no chance of his failure to enter the academy through ignorance.

His mother had helped him greatly, and in her mind there was no doubt of his passing the examinations, both physical and mental, severe though they might be.

As he had told Judge Miller, his mother had decided to remain at Castle Cliff with old Peggy.

They had talked it all over, and as, for some reason, Mrs. Merrill wished to shun the world, to live the life almost of a recluse, they had all agreed that it was best for her to remain where she was, and Peggy was equally as content with the arrangement.

When Mark returned from his visit to B——, which, but for his being a splendid swimmer, would have been fatal to him, he did not tell his mother of the plot he knew had been concocted to put an end to his life.

He simply told her that he had run upon a fishing net where he had never expected to find one, and going very rapidly, with a fresh breeze blowing, the surf-skiff had capsized, throwing him and his purchases out. His papers were all wet, but Peggy quickly dried them.

“But about this check, Mark, which Commodore Lucien so kindly sent you?” asked his mother.

“I answered the letter at once, mother, returning the check, and accepting the outfit, for which I shall pay him at some future day.”

“That was right, my son.”

“Mother, I went to see Judge Miller about the schooner, and he made a suggestion which I think it would be well to follow. You know Jasper Crane has no smack now, and is in hard luck, while he and his two sons are the best seamen on the coast, so we can put them on the schooner, as a crew, the old gentleman being skipper. As it will also cost considerable for me to reach the Naval School, I can make a cargo of the raft that came ashore and run it to Norfolk, thence going up the Chesapeake to the Naval Academy, while Captain Jasper Crane brings the schooner back and follows the advice of Judge Miller about putting her on as a packet among the islands.

“He is very kind, my son, and I believe the plan is a good one, as well as yours to run the lumber to Norfolk, only you must give yourself ample time, so we will begin preparations to-morrow.”

This was done, for Mark sailed down the coast to the home of Captain Jasper Crane, who dwelt near where the Merrills had first lived when coming to the coast, and the old sailor and his sons were delighted with a prospect of getting work to their liking.

Two weeks after the Venture, for such was the name of the derelict schooner, set sail for Norfolk, Captain Crane declaring that he would serve as first mate while Mark was on board.

The run south was made in good time, and the lumber brought sufficient to pay the crew liberally and return to Mrs. Merrill several hundred dollars, while Mark took sufficient for his own needs, and enough to pay his debt to Commodore Lucien.

The rush of the Venture up the Severn River in a gale, with Mark at the helm, whose masterly work won the admiration of the middies, and we will now follow the young sailor into the new world he had entered.

Mark had politely given his name to the cadets, and asked the question as to how he would find the commandant, expecting a civil response.

But here was a novelty for the fun-loving cadets.

Against all custom a new man had arrived in his own craft by sea.

He had given them ocular demonstration that he was not a greenhorn on the deck of a vessel, whatever he might be in other things.

He came dressed as gorgeously as Ralph Rackstraw of H. M. S. Pinafore, and he had not been abashed in the presence of their marine highnesses.

This was all wrong, very wrong, in their eyes.

What right had a new man to know the stem from the stern, the forecastle from the quarter-deck of a vessel, when entering the academy?

He came there to find out, to be taught, and he must start on even terms with all other verdant youths.

He attacked the academy from the sea, boarded, as it were, the sacred grounds over their marine stone bulwarks, giving the sentry at the gate the go-by, ignoring the existence of the officer of the day, and, confronting them with a natty tarpaulin set upon the side of his head, with spotless duck trousers, a sailor shirt with embroidered collar, and a sash about his slender waist, had coolly said that his name was Mark Merrill, and he wished to be directed to the quarters of the commandant.

This was too much for Winslow Dillingham, who took it upon himself to play the part of “Smart Aleck,” and he looked the stranger over with a cool, insolent stare, and said, in a drawling way:

“Beg pardon, but you said your name was Jack Hayseed, I believe?”

“I said that my name was Mark Merrill, and asked to be directed to the quarters of the commandant,” and Mark kept his temper admirably.

“Well, Mr. Pork Barrell, for such, I believe you said your name was, I will answer for the commandant that he wants no fish to-day.”

“Ah! then you are the commandant’s cook, so should know; but as I never argue with servants, I’ll seek your master.”

And Mark Merrill started on his way, when with a bound Winslow Dillingham confronted him, his face livid with rage.