Chapter Eleven.

Chapter Eleven.Hanks and my Ghost—Hanks’ Learning—Myers again—Escapes once more—Appointed to a Frigate—Prepare for Sea—My Shipmates—Sail from England—Messrs Trundle and Chissel—Dicky Sharpe and a Tale of a Beef-Bone.On reaching Portsmouth, I took a boat and pulled off to the cutter, which was lying out in the middle of the harbour. Hanks was walking the deck as I came alongside, but something having attracted his attention in the direction of Gosport, he did not observe me. Handing the boatman a shilling, I jumped on board unnoticed, and just as Hanks turned round, I stood before him, with my hand out ready to grasp his. For an instant the colour forsook his cheeks, and he stared at me without speaking, rolling his eyes round as if he saw my wraith.“Why, Hanks, old fellow! don’t you know me?” I exclaimed, bursting into a loud laugh at his extraordinary way of receiving me. My voice convinced him that it was not my ghost which was offering to shake hands with him.“What, D’Arcy, my boy! is it you, indeed, come back to us after all?” he cried, seizing both my hands in his own well-hardened paws. “I’m glad to see you, that I am, lad; we thought those scoundrel smugglers had done for you. It would have been just like them, to kill the smallest of the lot. But how did you escape? Come, tell us all about it. We’ve had another brush with that rascal Myers: we are certain it was him. He had the daring to fire into us; killed one of our people, poor Tom Darling, and wounded two, getting off into the bargain. But we will be even with him before long, and when we do catch him, we’ll pay him off, that’s all. Well I’m glad you escaped, that I am; but come below, and let us hear the whole story.”In this way the kind-hearted fellow ran on. Having been welcomed by Growl, Scriven, and the rest of my shipmates, I went to report myself to my uncle, who was in his cabin. He seemed truly glad to find that I had not become food for fishes, though he did not exhibit his pleasure exactly in the same way Hanks had done. When I was dismissed by him, I dived down into our berth, and there, over a glass of his too-favourite beverage, old Hanks listened to an account of my adventures. “It was the Cremona did it, after all!” he exclaimed, slapping my shoulder. “I told you it would stand you in good stead. Stick to it, my lad, and you’ll become as great a man as that old chap Orpheus, I’ve heard tell of, who made the beasts jig when he fiddled. Who the gentleman was, I can’t say, except that he was one of Julius Caesar’s generals, wasn’t he?”I must observe that Hanks’ knowledge of history, both ancient and modern, was somewhat limited and confused; indeed he was impressed with a notion that Julius Caesar, for whom he had a high respect, came over to England somewhere in the last century, and having taken possession of the country, was in his turn thrashed by William the Conqueror. Of all subsequent events till the time of Nelson, he professed total ignorance.“Ah, Nelson was the chap who made the English!” he used to exclaim in triumph; “and as for Nap, whom they talk so much about, what was he to him, I should like to know. Why, the little Frenchman couldn’t put a ship about in a steady breeze, I’ll warrant; and as for handling her in a gale, I doubt if he could have done it even if his crown depended on it.”Hanks had no very great respect for science either.“What do I care for your algebra and your trigonometry?” he one day observed. “I take my John Norie and my Gunter’s Scale, and I work out my day’s work as well as any man; and what more should I want to know, tell me? Your mathematicians are all humbugs in my opinion, and that’s a fact.”I mention these little traits in Hanks’ character, because I shall now have to bid him farewell for a season. He was a worthy fellow, nevertheless; not without sense of a practical sort; a curious specimen of a school now rapidly becoming obsolete.Soon after this we were once more on our old cruising ground, to the westward. We had been a week or more knocking about, when it came on to blow very hard from the south-west. My uncle was not a man to be frightened by a capful of wind; so, getting our storm-sails, we stood off shore, and faced the gale like men; for this was just the weather smugglers would choose to run across Channel, when they think no one will be on the look-out for them. Towards evening, however, it came on to blow harder than before; so that at last we were obliged to up-helm and run for shelter into harbour; but just as we were bearing up, a sea struck the cutter, carried away our stern-boat, and stove in one of those on our quarter. In this squall the wind seemed to have worn itself out; for before we had made the land it suddenly fell, and by daylight a dead calm came on, followed by a dense fog. When it cleared somewhat, we found close to us another revenue cutter. Her commander, Lieutenant Simmons, came on board and told my uncle that he had been directed to cruise in search of theKittylugger, commanded by the notorious smuggler Bill Myers. “He has been adding wholesale murder to his other performances,” observed the lieutenant. Two weeks ago, a boat from theHawkcutter fell in with him at night. He gave her the stem and cut her in two. Three of her crew climbed up the lugger’s bows, but were instantly knocked on the head and hove overboard. The rest were drowned, with the exception of one who clung to the wreck and was picked up by the cutter the next morning. This account made us more eager than ever to catch Myers. Another cruiser was sent down to assist us in our search; but, though for several weeks we kept a sharp look-out after him, he managed to escape us; and neither he nor theKittywas again heard of on that coast. I was destined, however, to fall in with him again in another clime.We were not sorry to get back to Portsmouth after all this knocking about. The first person I met on going on shore was Larry Harrigan. He had seen the cutter coming in, and had hurried down to the Point to meet me.“Oh, Master Neil, I’ve good news for you,” he exclaimed, as I jumped out of the boat and found myself in his arms, for he still looked on me as the baby he had so carefully watched over. “You are no longer to be kept in that tub-hunting service, saving his honour your uncle’s pardon; but you are to go to sea in reality, in a fine, smart frigate, which won’t be letting the grass grow under her keel, I’ll warrant.”“That’s good news, indeed, Larry; where did you learn it?” I asked.“From no less a man than the Captain himself, and that’s good authority, you’ll allow,” he answered, in a tone of no little satisfaction. “He’s a friend of your honoured grandfather’s, and was a midshipman and lieutenant on board two ships I served in. He has been lodging in my house for some months back; and when he heard who you were and who had brought you up and given you your sea-learning, says he, ‘Larry, you’ve made a seaman of him, that I’ll answer for. The lad shall go along with me when I get a ship, for his grandfather’s sake and yours too, old friend.’ Those were his last words, Master Neil, they were indeed; and he’s kept his promise, as I knew he would.”This very satisfactory information Larry communicated on our way to Southsea. It was confirmed soon afterwards by my uncle, who followed me up to Larry’s house. He, as I suspected, had also made an application in my favour, and had just received a letter from Captain Poynder—which was, I found, my future commander’s name,—desiring me forthwith to join his ship, theHarold, which was, however, still in the hands of the dockyard people. Though I would rather have gone afloat at once, this was, I found, a great advantage, as I had thus an opportunity of seeing her masted, rigged, and fitted for sea. Officers are often glad to shirk this, for it is far from pleasant work, and Portsmouth is not the most delectable of residences. I should advise all midshipmen not to miss an opportunity of seeing a ship fitted out, if they possibly can. They will find it will save them an immense deal of after trouble, and prove the quickest way of gaining a knowledge of their future home. Meantime Larry was as busy as a bee in getting my kit in order, aided by his better half; and few midshipmen ever obtained so good an insight at so cheap a rate. I got leave to run over to Ryde for a couple of days to wish my aunt and young cousins good-bye. I asked after Alice Marlow. I was in hopes of hearing that she was coming back to Ryde, that I might see her before I sailed. I blushed as I mentioned her name, and had a curious palpitation about the region of the heart. My aunt smiled as she replied, “I am afraid, Neil, that I shall not be able to get my young friend to come here again for a long time. Mr Marlow writes me word that he proposes going abroad and taking her with him. But cheer up; she will return here some day, I hope; and when you came back from one of your voyages, you will find her with us, perhaps. I should be, indeed, very sorry if I did not expect to see the dear little girl again.”My aunt was the kindest creature alive; and I was very certain that she regretted that Alice was not there to bid me farewell. I wished her and my cousins good-bye. They all cried a little, and so, in truth, did I; for they were the only creatures I had to love in the world. I, however, quite recovered my spirits before I got half-way across to Portsmouth. My uncle came several times on board the frigate, and, had I been his own son, he could not have taken more interest in me than he did. As for Larry Harrigan, he was on board every day, and all day long, following me about to show me how everything was done, and why it was done. The first-lieutenant was a very worthy, kind man; and as soon as he had heard Larry’s history, he used to talk to him and encourage him to come on board. Greatly to Larry’s delight, he gave me leave to spend an evening sometimes at his house, and very pleasant evenings they were. The officers now began to join fast. Lieutenants, mates, and midshipmen were every day arriving. We soon had our full complement of men, and having got clear of the dockyard people, were ready to go out to Spithead.I was now to turn over a new page in the history of my career. Although I had gained a considerable amount of nautical knowledge, my experience of life was somewhat limited; but henceforth it was to be enlarged and extended, I trusted, over the greater part of the surface of the globe. For the present, the lands of the myrtle and vine were to be our destination—the shores of the Mediterranean; and the man must indeed be difficult to satisfy who is not pleased with their varied and glowing beauties. Our gallant ship; our berth, so long our home; my messmates, as well as our superior officers and men, merit description. I will touch on each of them in their turn. First I will speak of our berth, which was in truth somewhat different to the abodes of the naval heroes of Great Britain of the rank of midshipmen, with which the public are familiar. Few, perhaps, are like it, though after we had been a year or two at sea it had sadly been shorn of its glory. Its brilliancy had departed, and its polish was no more. We happened to have a caterer, who liked to have everything very natty about him, and who had accordingly taken on himself to spend a few pounds in having our berth neatly done up. The bulkheads were painted of a salmon colour; there was a gilt and blue moulding; a neat oilcloth over the table and lockers; and at one end a buffet filled with plated dish-covers and dishes, tumblers and wine-glasses, forks and spoons, and China teacups; while two swing-lamps hung from the deck above. It afforded a contrast, certainly, to the times of the old school, when a purser’s dip was stuck in a black bottle, and battered tin cups served alternately for grog and tea and soup; but though the language of the occupants of our berth was somewhat more refined, and our opinions more liberal, I will venture to say that the spirit to will and to do deeds of daring burnt not the less brightly in our bosoms than in those of midshipmen of former times. While I was at Ryde the ship’s company moved out of the oldTopaze, alongside of which we were lashed, into the frigate; and the day after several mates and midshipmen, with somewhat aristocratic pretensions, joined us. I got a hint, when I came back from Ryde, that they were rather inclined to look down upon me as having been a cutter’s midshipman.“They shan’t cut me, at all events,” said I to myself. So as soon as I got on board I went below, and taking the fiddle old Hanks had given me, I sat myself down on my chest, and began playing away with all my might a merry Irish jig.“Hillo; who is the jolly fellow out there?” asked one of the new mates from the berth.“Oh, that’s the Irish midshipman, D’Arcy,” answered Onslow, a mate who had sometime joined. “Give us another tune, Paddy, that’s a good boy.”On this I forthwith struck up “Saint Patrick’s Day in the Morning,” and half a dozen other Irish airs.“If no one objects, I’ll sing, too, mates,” said I, when I had played out my tunes.Without waiting for an answer, I locked up my fiddle, and taking my seat at one end of the berth, I trolled out, with a very fair voice, several songs which used to delight old Hanks and my other shipmates in the cutter. The effect was evidently good. I showed my wish to please; and though afterwards a few attempts were made to snub me, I took them all in good humour, as if they were intended as jokes, and finally established myself as a favourite with the mess, and I may, I believe, honestly say, with nearly everybody on board.As soon as possible we went out to Spithead, and joined a large squadron under command of Sir Peppery Portfire. We mustered altogether some eighteen sail of vessels or more, and a very warlike appearance we made. We were bound, we knew, for the Mediterranean; and we all looked forward with no little satisfaction to our visit to that most favourite of stations.Our powder was next taken on board, with a further supply of stores, and more midshipmen. Among the latter, who should climb up the side but my quondam friend Dicky Sharpe. He did not see me, as I was aloft at the time, and before I came on deck, he and his traps had gone below. When my watch on deck was over, I descended to our berth, where I found him busily employed in cramming his new messmates, and endeavouring to raise himself to a high position in their estimation.“You see, my good fellows, it isn’t everybody has got a Minister for a cousin, and a Lord of the Admiralty for an uncle,” he remarked in a consequential tone, as I got to the door of the berth.“And I don’t think you have either, Dicky, my boy,” said I, laughing. “But I am very glad to see you, notwithstanding; but don’t be after bamboozling us jolly greens now.”At first he attempted to look very indignant at the attack made on his veracity; but no sooner did he recognise me than his good feelings got the better of his love of trying to make himself of importance; and jumping up, he seized my hand and wrung it warmly.“Why, D’Arcy, is it you yourself, indeed?” he exclaimed. “I am delighted to find you here, I am indeed. Why, messmates, if it hadn’t been for D’Arcy I should have been food for fishes; I should, on my word. Think what a loss the service would have had.”A loud laugh from all hands followed this remark, though I verily believe Dicky spoke in all gravity; but the fact that I had been the means of saving his life thus came out. It raised me, I had afterwards reason to know, in the good opinion of all on board; and Dicky himself gained many friends by the feeling way in which he spoke of it. I was very soon seated alongside him in the berth, and our tongues were rattling away as fast as they could wag.Dicky’s propensity to brag, amusing as it was to others, was continually getting him into scrapes. We had an old mate, Adam Stallman by name, who was proportionably as tall, grave, and silent, as Dicky was little, merry, and loquacious.One day Dicky having thrown a biscuit at me, which, unfortunately, hit Adam’s nose, the latter looked at him sternly.“Sharpe, you are small,” he exclaimed; “but cobbing was invented to make midshipmen grow, and I intend to make you grow.”“Then, faith, Stallman, I suspect your mother began cobbing you as soon as you were born,” answered the undaunted Dicky.Adam’s hands had been busy under the table with his handkerchief; now, suddenly leaning forward, he grasped Dicky by the crop of the neck, and before he had time to expostulate, he had him in such a position that he could apply with the greatest effect the instrument of torture he had manufactured. As all the oldsters sided with Adam, the youngsters dared not interfere; and poor Dicky was held in that undignified position while other handkerchiefs were knotted, and before he was cast loose he received a cobbing which made him treat ever afterwards all the oldsters with abundant respect. But Dicky, if he did not forget, did what was as wise, he forgave; and I do not think he nourished the slightest ill-will against his cobbers.Of Captain Poynder I have spoken. He was a worthy man and a good officer; and if he had a fault, it was not being sufficiently strict.Then comes Johnny Du Pre, our gallant First. I have still an affectionate regard for Johnny, though many an hour have I spent at our masthead at his instigation; while Dicky, promoted by the like authority, was taking sights at me from another. We were sent there not without cause, I own, and still the amount of moral turpitude which gained us that elevated distinction was not such as to make me blush as I think of it, or to make me anxious to conceal it from the public. Neither as a first-lieutenant nor as a man was Lieutenant Du Pre perfect; but who is there with whom one cannot find a fault. He was kind-hearted, a fair seaman, and anxious to do his duty.But our second lieutenant, Basil Vernon, was still more worthy of notice. Refined and elegant both in person and manners, he appeared, at first sight, to be what is called a fine gentleman; but kind-hearted, brave, and generous almost to a fault, a first-rate seaman and officer, a better fellow never stepped, nor one more beloved by all classes afloat, as well as by all who knew him on shore. I soon became very much attached to him, and would have gone round the world to do him a service. Many times did he save me from punishment when I specially deserved it. He was indeed very far from being one of those fine fellows whom no ordinary mortals can approach; for he had a heart tender as a woman’s, and he would as readily sympathise with the grief of the smallest middy, as with the sorrow or suffering of the roughest tar on board. He was a sincere Christian too, and, what was more, was not ashamed of his Christianity. He exhibited his principles in his practice—in the daily duties of life,—till he taught the most profane and profligate to respect him, if not to adopt them. I wish there were more Basil Vernons in the service. Thank Heaven! there are some shining lights to lighten us in our darkness—leaven, which gradually, though slowly, may, by God’s providence, leaven the whole mass.Our third lieutenant, Hugh Summers, wrote poetry, talked sentiment, and dreamed dreams, and required a flapper to remind him when to put the ship about at times; but when once aroused into action, he was as energetic as any one, and had plenty of resources on an emergency.The master, surgeon, and purser, were also very good fellows in their way, and if not shining ornaments, were no disgrace to His Majesty’s service.At last the pay-clerks came on board, and paid the ship’s company. A fine bright morning saw the signal flying from the admiral’s ship for the fleet to weigh and work out to Saint Helen’s. There was a nice working breeze, a blue sky, and the water just rippled enough to reflect with more dazzling splendour the rays of the glorious sun, as he shed them almost along the path we were to pursue. It was, in truth, a beautiful sight; and considering the number of ships—some eighteen sail or more, all beating out together within so narrow a channel,—it was surprising that much damage was not done, especially when it is remembered that the crews of half the ships had never been to sea before, and that the ropes were stiff and new, and did not work well. One ship, I believe, carried away her flying jib-boom against the stern of another; and with that slight loss, and a small expenditure of abuse from the respective crews, who thought each other to blame, we reached Saint Helen’s. The next day we were fairly off to sea; the fleet formed in two lines, the White and the Blue Squadrons, which Sir Peppery manoeuvred with much skill, to the no small trouble of the signal midshipmen. The second day, Ned Lenny, the young gentleman on board theHaroldwho held that office, vowed he must leave the service and go into the Dragoons, if it was to be carried on in that way; though the following morning he thought better of it. He gained, however, thesobriquetof the Heavy, which, as he was a cocksparrow of a fellow, he retained ever afterwards. Captain Poynder was not inclined to save either officers or crew till we got into good order, which we accordingly did our best to accomplish.After cruising for six weeks, we were ordered to Spithead to complete our provisions, water, and stores; and then, having taken some passengers on board, made all sail for our station in Mediterranean.We had not been long at sea when Dicky and I, wearying of the daily routine of duty, began to play pranks which were calculated to bring us into trouble. The boatswain, who rejoiced in the name of Timotheus Trundle, was one of the most extraordinary of his class, though not a bad boatswain for all that. His appearance in foul weather was that of a short lump of big coats and trousers, with a small red pumpkin growing out of them. On a nearer approach, one discovered in the said pumpkin a pair of red, ferrety eyes, an excrescence for a nose, and a hole into which his whistle fitted for a mouth, and on either side of it, on a Sunday morning, two very high shirt-collars, they towards the end of the week gaining a darker hue and an outward curve. On the top of the pumpkin was a round Spanish hat, the fluff of the catskin which composed it being long enough to make a dozen beavers. He wore, with considerable pride, round his neck a handsome silver call and chain. But with all his oddities, his enemies—and he had a few—were obliged to confess that he knew and did his duty as well as any man in the ship. Among his other qualifications, he was a bit of a sea-lawyer; not of the cantankerous sort, however, for it might be more justly said that he preferred sitting on the judicial bench, and he was ever ready to settle all disputes either by arbitration or the rope’s-end; indeed, in most cases he had recourse to the latter, as being the most summary mode of proceeding. When his duty did not require his presence on his own territory, the forecastle, he was fond of taking a walk on the main-deck, alongside the carpenter’s bench, for he was of a social disposition, and delighted in what he called ‘rasheral’ conversation.Now, Ichabod Chissel, our carpenter, was another of those heroes of the tongue, who pretend to know everything, and never fail in a story for want of a little invention. By his own crew, who looked up to him and esteemed him for his sterling qualities, he was considered a first-rate politician. The two officers were tolerably good friends in general; but a very slight thing would make them fall out, though they as speedily patched up their quarrels again.One day there was a light breeze and a smooth sea, and Trundle, not expecting to be wanted, had repaired to the main-deck, where Chissel was superintending his crew at work. Dicky Sharpe and I happened to be near, and observing that they were both more than usually excited, we drew closer to see the fun going forward.“Well, that was a storm as fierce as ever I did see,” remarked Chissel. “Why, there was a thunderbolt as big as six of my fists put together, fell right through the decks, and out through the ship’s bottom; and if I hadn’t been there to plug the hole, we should all have gone to Davy Jones’ locker, as sure as fate. You was there, Trundle, and you know, old ship, that I speak true.”“I was there! Yes; but I know you speak a hanged lie, if you say that,” exclaimed Trundle.“What’s that you say?” shouted Chissel, highly indignant at being told he lied before all his crew, though he doubtless would have cared very little about the matter, had the polite remark been made when the two were alone.Just then Mr Summers, who was the officer of the watch, sung out, “Hands about ship! Where’s the boatswain?”“Never in his station,” observed Chissel, as Trundle, call in mouth, was making his way forward. “And very little use when he is there,” he added, either thinking the boatswain would not hear him, or caring very little if he did.Trundle caught the words just as he was going up the fore-ladder, and though he could not just then take his pipe from his mouth to utter a retort, he gave a fierce look with one of his ferrety eyes, which showed that he acknowledged himself deeply in his messmate’s debt. His pipe sounded more shrill than usual, as he could not give any other vent to his feelings.“There’ll be a row before long between those two heroes, just you mark that,” said I to Dicky, as we both hurried off to our stations.“Ay,” said he, giving me a wink; “and I think I can put a spoke in their wheel to help them along.”It was near twelve o’clock, the ship being put about, the decks cleared up, and grog served out preparatory to dinner, when the boatswain made his appearance before the carpenter, his anger in no way appeased.“What’s that you were saying about me, Mr Ichabod Chissel, I should like to know?” he exclaimed, in an irate tone.“Why, Mr Trundle, no man likes to have his ferocity (veracity?) doubted, and if you goes for to affirm that I’m a liar—I don’t mince matters, you’ll understand me,—why, all I’ve got to say is, that you’re the biggest speaker of untruths as ever was born, whoever the mother was who got you. Put that in your pipe, Mr Trundle, and smoke it.”This most insulting of all remarks increased tenfold the boatswain’s rage, and the two would have come instantly to fisticuffs, but that, fortunately, at that moment the order to pipe to dinner was given. The boatswain’s call came into requisition, and all hands, except the watch on deck, were soon busily employed in discussing the contents of a cask of beef, boasting of but a small proportion of fat or lean and a considerable superfluity of bone.Now it happened to be Dicky Sharpe’s watch on deck while dinner was going on, and at one o’clock, being relieved, he came down to his own repast, which he was not long in discussing. While he sat turning a large rib-bone over and over, in disgust at finding so little meat on it, and waiting for the boy to clear away, the boatswain, whose cabin could be seen from the berth on the larboard side, roused up from a nap, and began to contemplate his visage in his glass, to discover if he looked in any way as if he had been asleep. It must be understood that it is contrary to the principles of a boatswain worthy of the rank ever to require sleep. He would consider himself disgraced in the eyes of the whole crew, if he were caught taking a wink. A regular-built boatswain is often on deck from half-past three in the morning till eleven at night, and should it be bad weather, or from any other cause, frequently two or three times during the night also; and as to his cabin, he merely looks in occasionally and keeps his donnage there.Now, to do him justice, Trundle was a thoroughgoing boatswain. While he was rubbing his eyes, to get the sleepiness out of them, pulling up his shirt-collar, and brushing back his hair, the demon of mischief put a thought into Dicky Sharpe’s head. To conceive, with Dicky, was to execute. I happened to be descending from the main-deck, when I saw Dicky standing at the door of the berth, with the rib-bone in hand, and a wicked look in his eye. I instantly perceived the state of affairs, and divined what was to happen. Away flew the bone across the deck, with so good an aim that it made a cannon against the boatswain’s nose and his glass, breaking both one and the other with a loud crash, which was followed by a volley of oaths. The steerage of a frigate, even when a sunbeam penetrates through a scuttle, is not over and above brilliantly lighted; and on the present occasion a purser’s dip here and there just enabled us to grope our way about the deck. Now it happened that the carpenter at that moment was coming out of his berth, which was nearly opposite the boatswain’s.“Oh! you blessed Chissel; I saw you heave that, you aggrawating so-and-so,” exclaimed Trundle, in a towering rage, exhibiting his bleeding nose and broken glass.“I never hove anything, and that you know, you so-and-so,” answered Ichabod, drawing near to his adversary.“You did, though, you so-and-so,” cried Trundle, doubling his fist, and dealing Ichabod a hit on the eye which almost stove it in.The blow was given back, and returned with interest, with expressions not fit for ears polite, till the noses of both heroes were streaming with blood, and their voices were hallooing away at the highest pitch. Dicky was rubbing his hands in high glee at the successful result of his experiment, when the captain, aroused by the hubbub, rang his bell to know what was the matter. This sound, like that of Oberon’s magic horn, instantly paralysed the combatants; and the sentry having put his head into the cabin, and made some report which apparently satisfied the skipper, the two warriors, like a couple of lions growling defiance at each other, retired to their berths, to staunch their bleeding wounds, and wash away the stains of the fight from their faces.Here the first thing which met the eye of the boatswain, as he stooped to pick up the fragments of his glass, was the missile which had inflicted the injury. Now, as the officers generally choose the long ribs of beef for roasting, for which they pay one pound in six for the good of the ship’s company, and the boatswain had actually seen the carpenter’s servant carrying a piece of rib-beef for his master’s dinner, he felt perfectly satisfied who had thrown the bone. Seizing it, therefore, in his hand, with the fragments of his glass, and his nose still bleeding, he rushed on deck, and halted, quivering with rage, on the quarter-deck, in presence of the first-lieutenant.“By Jupiter, what a wigging I shall get,” whispered Dicky, in a terrible funk. “I say, D’Arcy, my boy, don’t ’peach, though.”I cocked my eye, and, pointing to the masthead,—“Six hours a day for the next week, eh!—pleasant, Dicky,” I answered.Master Dicky dared not show his face, lest his consciousness of guilt might betray itself; for, though unable to resist doing a piece of mischief when the temptation came in his way, he had not got the brazen front of a hardened sinner. I also, anxious as I was to learn the result of the trial, was afraid of showing too great an interest in it, lest suspicion should fall on me, and therefore walked the quarter-deck at a respectful distance, picking up what information I could on the way.“What is this you have to complain of, Mr Trundle?” asked the first-lieutenant, as he stood at the capstern-head, with the enraged boatswain before him.“Why, sir, as I was a-cleaning myself just now in my cabin, a-thinking no harm of nobody, Mr Ichabod Chissel, the carpenter of this here ship, sir, and my brother officer, thinks fit to heave this here rib-bone right across the steerage against my nose and my glass, and breaks both on ’em. If that ain’t enough to aggrawate and perwoke and—and—and—(he stopped for a word) flabbergast any one, I don’t know what is, sir, you’ll allow.”“Very much so, I grant,” observed Mr Du Pre, taking the bone between his fingers and holding it behind his back. “Send Mr Chissel here.”The carpenter soon made his appearance.“Pray, Mr Chissel, what part of the meat had you for your dinner, to-day?” asked Mr Du Pre.“The tail, sir,” said the carpenter.“What became of the bone after dinner?” asked the first-lieutenant.“The boy cleared it away with the rest of the things, sir,” was the answer.“Let the boy be sent for,” said Mr Du Pre.Bobby Smudge soon came rolling along, hitching up his trousers as he approached the capstern.There was a wicked look in the young rascal’s eye, which made me suspect he knew all about the matter. He was the most complete little Pickle in the ship, and was continually getting punished, and most deservedly too, by his master. The very day before, the carpenter had reported him, and he had got eleven finnams on the hand for having, in conveying Mr Chissel’s grog from the tub to his cabin, being detected in the very act of taking a hatchway nip—the said hatchway nip, let it be understood, being a sip snatched furtively by the bearer of a glass of grog on the ladder descending from the main to the lower deck. A finnam, I must also explain, is a blow inflicted on the hand, with a cane generally, by the master-at-arms or the ship’s corporal. To the said finnams poor Bobby Smudge’s black paws were well accustomed.“Boy, what was done with the bone after your master’s dinner?” asked Mr Du Pre, in a severe tone.“I’m sure I don’t know, sir,” replied Bobby Smudge, in a long drawl, worthy of a London professional street-beggar.“Should you know it again if you saw it?” asked the first-lieutenant.“Oh yes, sir; I’m sure I should,” replied Master Smudge, brightening up and looking the picture of innocent simplicity.“Well, my boy, what do you say to this?” said Mr Du Pre, producing the bone from behind his back.All eyes turned towards Bobby Smudge: the carpenter’s fate hung on his decision. The young monkey felt his importance, and determined to exert it. Chissel knew it was the very sort of bone he had scraped not an hour before. Bobby took it, and, turning it round, examined it narrowly.“Oh yes, sir; I’ll swear to it, that I will,” he exclaimed, holding up his blistered hand behind his back so that the carpenter might observe it. “As I was a-trying to get my dinner off it, I notched it with my knife, I knowed I did, ’cause there was so little meat on it.”“Oh, you wretched young liar,” muttered the carpenter, for he dared not speak aloud; “won’t I pay you off, that’s all?”The boy heard him, and gave a grin of defiance.“Mr Chissel, go to your cabin, and consider yourself under arrest,” said the first-lieutenant; “I must report this affair to the captain. The discipline of the ship cannot be thus trifled with; and officers especially, who ought to know better, must not be allowed to set the men so bad an example with impunity.”Saying this, Mr Du Pre resumed his walk on the quarter-deck, and I hurried down to report what had occurred, to my chum Dicky. At first he was highly delighted at having escaped detection.“Stop a bit, Dicky,” said I; “I don’t think you are quite out of the fire yet. It will never do to let the carpenter be disrated or dismissed the ship for conduct of which he is innocent. The truth must come out; and, to my mind, honesty is the best policy.”“Well, but don’t you see, D’Arcy, I shall get mast-headed and have my leave stopped, and I don’t know what else—all for shying a bone across the steerage,” argued Dicky. “What business had the boatswain and carpenter to hit each other, I should like to know. If that stupid Trundle had taken the joke in good part, there wouldn’t have been all this row.”I laughed outright at Master Richard’s style of reasoning.“That argument won’t stand good with the skipper,” said I. “Now, come, let me do the only thing which can set matters to rights; because it is the right thing. I’m a bit of a favourite with Mr Du Pre, I suspect; and I’ll go up to him at once, and tell him the truth. If anything can get you off, that will; and if the affair reaches the ears of the captain, there will be a very serious row, I’m certain.”At last Dicky consented to my plan, and without waiting to let him change his mind, I went on deck, where I found the first-lieutenant.“I’ve got something to say about that beef-bone, sir,” I began.“What’s that, Mr D’Arcy,” he exclaimed, turning sharp round. “When am I to hear the last of that beef-bone?”“Why, sir, it wasn’t the carpenter threw it, but one of the midshipmen; he couldn’t help it, though. No one could, I’m sure,” I rapped out.“Why, Master D’Arcy, I verily believe you’re the culprit,” he exclaimed, looking at me steadfastly.I detected, however, a smile in his eye, which showed that his anger was not very serious; so I at once told him exactly how the matter had occurred, and that Dicky had begged me to come and confess the truth and intercede for him. Master Sharpe was therefore sent for; and having been severely reprimanded, was told that as soon as we got into harbour his leave would be stopped, and was then ordered to the masthead for a couple of hours, to sit there instead of on the stool of repentance. The carpenter was released from arrest, on condition that he should keep the peace. The boatswain’s nose mended in the course of a few days; and though reminded of the outrage every time he attempted to shave before his broken bit of looking-glass, he and Chissel soon patched up their quarrel and resumed their former intimacy. The person who fared worst was Bobby Smudge, who, never a favourite with his master, now obtained a double allowance of finnams, and a sly rope’s-ending whenever opportunities offered. Bobby began to discover that revenge, though sweet, may recoil on the head of the avenger, and become very bitter. More ultimately came out of the beef-bone affair.

On reaching Portsmouth, I took a boat and pulled off to the cutter, which was lying out in the middle of the harbour. Hanks was walking the deck as I came alongside, but something having attracted his attention in the direction of Gosport, he did not observe me. Handing the boatman a shilling, I jumped on board unnoticed, and just as Hanks turned round, I stood before him, with my hand out ready to grasp his. For an instant the colour forsook his cheeks, and he stared at me without speaking, rolling his eyes round as if he saw my wraith.

“Why, Hanks, old fellow! don’t you know me?” I exclaimed, bursting into a loud laugh at his extraordinary way of receiving me. My voice convinced him that it was not my ghost which was offering to shake hands with him.

“What, D’Arcy, my boy! is it you, indeed, come back to us after all?” he cried, seizing both my hands in his own well-hardened paws. “I’m glad to see you, that I am, lad; we thought those scoundrel smugglers had done for you. It would have been just like them, to kill the smallest of the lot. But how did you escape? Come, tell us all about it. We’ve had another brush with that rascal Myers: we are certain it was him. He had the daring to fire into us; killed one of our people, poor Tom Darling, and wounded two, getting off into the bargain. But we will be even with him before long, and when we do catch him, we’ll pay him off, that’s all. Well I’m glad you escaped, that I am; but come below, and let us hear the whole story.”

In this way the kind-hearted fellow ran on. Having been welcomed by Growl, Scriven, and the rest of my shipmates, I went to report myself to my uncle, who was in his cabin. He seemed truly glad to find that I had not become food for fishes, though he did not exhibit his pleasure exactly in the same way Hanks had done. When I was dismissed by him, I dived down into our berth, and there, over a glass of his too-favourite beverage, old Hanks listened to an account of my adventures. “It was the Cremona did it, after all!” he exclaimed, slapping my shoulder. “I told you it would stand you in good stead. Stick to it, my lad, and you’ll become as great a man as that old chap Orpheus, I’ve heard tell of, who made the beasts jig when he fiddled. Who the gentleman was, I can’t say, except that he was one of Julius Caesar’s generals, wasn’t he?”

I must observe that Hanks’ knowledge of history, both ancient and modern, was somewhat limited and confused; indeed he was impressed with a notion that Julius Caesar, for whom he had a high respect, came over to England somewhere in the last century, and having taken possession of the country, was in his turn thrashed by William the Conqueror. Of all subsequent events till the time of Nelson, he professed total ignorance.

“Ah, Nelson was the chap who made the English!” he used to exclaim in triumph; “and as for Nap, whom they talk so much about, what was he to him, I should like to know. Why, the little Frenchman couldn’t put a ship about in a steady breeze, I’ll warrant; and as for handling her in a gale, I doubt if he could have done it even if his crown depended on it.”

Hanks had no very great respect for science either.

“What do I care for your algebra and your trigonometry?” he one day observed. “I take my John Norie and my Gunter’s Scale, and I work out my day’s work as well as any man; and what more should I want to know, tell me? Your mathematicians are all humbugs in my opinion, and that’s a fact.”

I mention these little traits in Hanks’ character, because I shall now have to bid him farewell for a season. He was a worthy fellow, nevertheless; not without sense of a practical sort; a curious specimen of a school now rapidly becoming obsolete.

Soon after this we were once more on our old cruising ground, to the westward. We had been a week or more knocking about, when it came on to blow very hard from the south-west. My uncle was not a man to be frightened by a capful of wind; so, getting our storm-sails, we stood off shore, and faced the gale like men; for this was just the weather smugglers would choose to run across Channel, when they think no one will be on the look-out for them. Towards evening, however, it came on to blow harder than before; so that at last we were obliged to up-helm and run for shelter into harbour; but just as we were bearing up, a sea struck the cutter, carried away our stern-boat, and stove in one of those on our quarter. In this squall the wind seemed to have worn itself out; for before we had made the land it suddenly fell, and by daylight a dead calm came on, followed by a dense fog. When it cleared somewhat, we found close to us another revenue cutter. Her commander, Lieutenant Simmons, came on board and told my uncle that he had been directed to cruise in search of theKittylugger, commanded by the notorious smuggler Bill Myers. “He has been adding wholesale murder to his other performances,” observed the lieutenant. Two weeks ago, a boat from theHawkcutter fell in with him at night. He gave her the stem and cut her in two. Three of her crew climbed up the lugger’s bows, but were instantly knocked on the head and hove overboard. The rest were drowned, with the exception of one who clung to the wreck and was picked up by the cutter the next morning. This account made us more eager than ever to catch Myers. Another cruiser was sent down to assist us in our search; but, though for several weeks we kept a sharp look-out after him, he managed to escape us; and neither he nor theKittywas again heard of on that coast. I was destined, however, to fall in with him again in another clime.

We were not sorry to get back to Portsmouth after all this knocking about. The first person I met on going on shore was Larry Harrigan. He had seen the cutter coming in, and had hurried down to the Point to meet me.

“Oh, Master Neil, I’ve good news for you,” he exclaimed, as I jumped out of the boat and found myself in his arms, for he still looked on me as the baby he had so carefully watched over. “You are no longer to be kept in that tub-hunting service, saving his honour your uncle’s pardon; but you are to go to sea in reality, in a fine, smart frigate, which won’t be letting the grass grow under her keel, I’ll warrant.”

“That’s good news, indeed, Larry; where did you learn it?” I asked.

“From no less a man than the Captain himself, and that’s good authority, you’ll allow,” he answered, in a tone of no little satisfaction. “He’s a friend of your honoured grandfather’s, and was a midshipman and lieutenant on board two ships I served in. He has been lodging in my house for some months back; and when he heard who you were and who had brought you up and given you your sea-learning, says he, ‘Larry, you’ve made a seaman of him, that I’ll answer for. The lad shall go along with me when I get a ship, for his grandfather’s sake and yours too, old friend.’ Those were his last words, Master Neil, they were indeed; and he’s kept his promise, as I knew he would.”

This very satisfactory information Larry communicated on our way to Southsea. It was confirmed soon afterwards by my uncle, who followed me up to Larry’s house. He, as I suspected, had also made an application in my favour, and had just received a letter from Captain Poynder—which was, I found, my future commander’s name,—desiring me forthwith to join his ship, theHarold, which was, however, still in the hands of the dockyard people. Though I would rather have gone afloat at once, this was, I found, a great advantage, as I had thus an opportunity of seeing her masted, rigged, and fitted for sea. Officers are often glad to shirk this, for it is far from pleasant work, and Portsmouth is not the most delectable of residences. I should advise all midshipmen not to miss an opportunity of seeing a ship fitted out, if they possibly can. They will find it will save them an immense deal of after trouble, and prove the quickest way of gaining a knowledge of their future home. Meantime Larry was as busy as a bee in getting my kit in order, aided by his better half; and few midshipmen ever obtained so good an insight at so cheap a rate. I got leave to run over to Ryde for a couple of days to wish my aunt and young cousins good-bye. I asked after Alice Marlow. I was in hopes of hearing that she was coming back to Ryde, that I might see her before I sailed. I blushed as I mentioned her name, and had a curious palpitation about the region of the heart. My aunt smiled as she replied, “I am afraid, Neil, that I shall not be able to get my young friend to come here again for a long time. Mr Marlow writes me word that he proposes going abroad and taking her with him. But cheer up; she will return here some day, I hope; and when you came back from one of your voyages, you will find her with us, perhaps. I should be, indeed, very sorry if I did not expect to see the dear little girl again.”

My aunt was the kindest creature alive; and I was very certain that she regretted that Alice was not there to bid me farewell. I wished her and my cousins good-bye. They all cried a little, and so, in truth, did I; for they were the only creatures I had to love in the world. I, however, quite recovered my spirits before I got half-way across to Portsmouth. My uncle came several times on board the frigate, and, had I been his own son, he could not have taken more interest in me than he did. As for Larry Harrigan, he was on board every day, and all day long, following me about to show me how everything was done, and why it was done. The first-lieutenant was a very worthy, kind man; and as soon as he had heard Larry’s history, he used to talk to him and encourage him to come on board. Greatly to Larry’s delight, he gave me leave to spend an evening sometimes at his house, and very pleasant evenings they were. The officers now began to join fast. Lieutenants, mates, and midshipmen were every day arriving. We soon had our full complement of men, and having got clear of the dockyard people, were ready to go out to Spithead.

I was now to turn over a new page in the history of my career. Although I had gained a considerable amount of nautical knowledge, my experience of life was somewhat limited; but henceforth it was to be enlarged and extended, I trusted, over the greater part of the surface of the globe. For the present, the lands of the myrtle and vine were to be our destination—the shores of the Mediterranean; and the man must indeed be difficult to satisfy who is not pleased with their varied and glowing beauties. Our gallant ship; our berth, so long our home; my messmates, as well as our superior officers and men, merit description. I will touch on each of them in their turn. First I will speak of our berth, which was in truth somewhat different to the abodes of the naval heroes of Great Britain of the rank of midshipmen, with which the public are familiar. Few, perhaps, are like it, though after we had been a year or two at sea it had sadly been shorn of its glory. Its brilliancy had departed, and its polish was no more. We happened to have a caterer, who liked to have everything very natty about him, and who had accordingly taken on himself to spend a few pounds in having our berth neatly done up. The bulkheads were painted of a salmon colour; there was a gilt and blue moulding; a neat oilcloth over the table and lockers; and at one end a buffet filled with plated dish-covers and dishes, tumblers and wine-glasses, forks and spoons, and China teacups; while two swing-lamps hung from the deck above. It afforded a contrast, certainly, to the times of the old school, when a purser’s dip was stuck in a black bottle, and battered tin cups served alternately for grog and tea and soup; but though the language of the occupants of our berth was somewhat more refined, and our opinions more liberal, I will venture to say that the spirit to will and to do deeds of daring burnt not the less brightly in our bosoms than in those of midshipmen of former times. While I was at Ryde the ship’s company moved out of the oldTopaze, alongside of which we were lashed, into the frigate; and the day after several mates and midshipmen, with somewhat aristocratic pretensions, joined us. I got a hint, when I came back from Ryde, that they were rather inclined to look down upon me as having been a cutter’s midshipman.

“They shan’t cut me, at all events,” said I to myself. So as soon as I got on board I went below, and taking the fiddle old Hanks had given me, I sat myself down on my chest, and began playing away with all my might a merry Irish jig.

“Hillo; who is the jolly fellow out there?” asked one of the new mates from the berth.

“Oh, that’s the Irish midshipman, D’Arcy,” answered Onslow, a mate who had sometime joined. “Give us another tune, Paddy, that’s a good boy.”

On this I forthwith struck up “Saint Patrick’s Day in the Morning,” and half a dozen other Irish airs.

“If no one objects, I’ll sing, too, mates,” said I, when I had played out my tunes.

Without waiting for an answer, I locked up my fiddle, and taking my seat at one end of the berth, I trolled out, with a very fair voice, several songs which used to delight old Hanks and my other shipmates in the cutter. The effect was evidently good. I showed my wish to please; and though afterwards a few attempts were made to snub me, I took them all in good humour, as if they were intended as jokes, and finally established myself as a favourite with the mess, and I may, I believe, honestly say, with nearly everybody on board.

As soon as possible we went out to Spithead, and joined a large squadron under command of Sir Peppery Portfire. We mustered altogether some eighteen sail of vessels or more, and a very warlike appearance we made. We were bound, we knew, for the Mediterranean; and we all looked forward with no little satisfaction to our visit to that most favourite of stations.

Our powder was next taken on board, with a further supply of stores, and more midshipmen. Among the latter, who should climb up the side but my quondam friend Dicky Sharpe. He did not see me, as I was aloft at the time, and before I came on deck, he and his traps had gone below. When my watch on deck was over, I descended to our berth, where I found him busily employed in cramming his new messmates, and endeavouring to raise himself to a high position in their estimation.

“You see, my good fellows, it isn’t everybody has got a Minister for a cousin, and a Lord of the Admiralty for an uncle,” he remarked in a consequential tone, as I got to the door of the berth.

“And I don’t think you have either, Dicky, my boy,” said I, laughing. “But I am very glad to see you, notwithstanding; but don’t be after bamboozling us jolly greens now.”

At first he attempted to look very indignant at the attack made on his veracity; but no sooner did he recognise me than his good feelings got the better of his love of trying to make himself of importance; and jumping up, he seized my hand and wrung it warmly.

“Why, D’Arcy, is it you yourself, indeed?” he exclaimed. “I am delighted to find you here, I am indeed. Why, messmates, if it hadn’t been for D’Arcy I should have been food for fishes; I should, on my word. Think what a loss the service would have had.”

A loud laugh from all hands followed this remark, though I verily believe Dicky spoke in all gravity; but the fact that I had been the means of saving his life thus came out. It raised me, I had afterwards reason to know, in the good opinion of all on board; and Dicky himself gained many friends by the feeling way in which he spoke of it. I was very soon seated alongside him in the berth, and our tongues were rattling away as fast as they could wag.

Dicky’s propensity to brag, amusing as it was to others, was continually getting him into scrapes. We had an old mate, Adam Stallman by name, who was proportionably as tall, grave, and silent, as Dicky was little, merry, and loquacious.

One day Dicky having thrown a biscuit at me, which, unfortunately, hit Adam’s nose, the latter looked at him sternly.

“Sharpe, you are small,” he exclaimed; “but cobbing was invented to make midshipmen grow, and I intend to make you grow.”

“Then, faith, Stallman, I suspect your mother began cobbing you as soon as you were born,” answered the undaunted Dicky.

Adam’s hands had been busy under the table with his handkerchief; now, suddenly leaning forward, he grasped Dicky by the crop of the neck, and before he had time to expostulate, he had him in such a position that he could apply with the greatest effect the instrument of torture he had manufactured. As all the oldsters sided with Adam, the youngsters dared not interfere; and poor Dicky was held in that undignified position while other handkerchiefs were knotted, and before he was cast loose he received a cobbing which made him treat ever afterwards all the oldsters with abundant respect. But Dicky, if he did not forget, did what was as wise, he forgave; and I do not think he nourished the slightest ill-will against his cobbers.

Of Captain Poynder I have spoken. He was a worthy man and a good officer; and if he had a fault, it was not being sufficiently strict.

Then comes Johnny Du Pre, our gallant First. I have still an affectionate regard for Johnny, though many an hour have I spent at our masthead at his instigation; while Dicky, promoted by the like authority, was taking sights at me from another. We were sent there not without cause, I own, and still the amount of moral turpitude which gained us that elevated distinction was not such as to make me blush as I think of it, or to make me anxious to conceal it from the public. Neither as a first-lieutenant nor as a man was Lieutenant Du Pre perfect; but who is there with whom one cannot find a fault. He was kind-hearted, a fair seaman, and anxious to do his duty.

But our second lieutenant, Basil Vernon, was still more worthy of notice. Refined and elegant both in person and manners, he appeared, at first sight, to be what is called a fine gentleman; but kind-hearted, brave, and generous almost to a fault, a first-rate seaman and officer, a better fellow never stepped, nor one more beloved by all classes afloat, as well as by all who knew him on shore. I soon became very much attached to him, and would have gone round the world to do him a service. Many times did he save me from punishment when I specially deserved it. He was indeed very far from being one of those fine fellows whom no ordinary mortals can approach; for he had a heart tender as a woman’s, and he would as readily sympathise with the grief of the smallest middy, as with the sorrow or suffering of the roughest tar on board. He was a sincere Christian too, and, what was more, was not ashamed of his Christianity. He exhibited his principles in his practice—in the daily duties of life,—till he taught the most profane and profligate to respect him, if not to adopt them. I wish there were more Basil Vernons in the service. Thank Heaven! there are some shining lights to lighten us in our darkness—leaven, which gradually, though slowly, may, by God’s providence, leaven the whole mass.

Our third lieutenant, Hugh Summers, wrote poetry, talked sentiment, and dreamed dreams, and required a flapper to remind him when to put the ship about at times; but when once aroused into action, he was as energetic as any one, and had plenty of resources on an emergency.

The master, surgeon, and purser, were also very good fellows in their way, and if not shining ornaments, were no disgrace to His Majesty’s service.

At last the pay-clerks came on board, and paid the ship’s company. A fine bright morning saw the signal flying from the admiral’s ship for the fleet to weigh and work out to Saint Helen’s. There was a nice working breeze, a blue sky, and the water just rippled enough to reflect with more dazzling splendour the rays of the glorious sun, as he shed them almost along the path we were to pursue. It was, in truth, a beautiful sight; and considering the number of ships—some eighteen sail or more, all beating out together within so narrow a channel,—it was surprising that much damage was not done, especially when it is remembered that the crews of half the ships had never been to sea before, and that the ropes were stiff and new, and did not work well. One ship, I believe, carried away her flying jib-boom against the stern of another; and with that slight loss, and a small expenditure of abuse from the respective crews, who thought each other to blame, we reached Saint Helen’s. The next day we were fairly off to sea; the fleet formed in two lines, the White and the Blue Squadrons, which Sir Peppery manoeuvred with much skill, to the no small trouble of the signal midshipmen. The second day, Ned Lenny, the young gentleman on board theHaroldwho held that office, vowed he must leave the service and go into the Dragoons, if it was to be carried on in that way; though the following morning he thought better of it. He gained, however, thesobriquetof the Heavy, which, as he was a cocksparrow of a fellow, he retained ever afterwards. Captain Poynder was not inclined to save either officers or crew till we got into good order, which we accordingly did our best to accomplish.

After cruising for six weeks, we were ordered to Spithead to complete our provisions, water, and stores; and then, having taken some passengers on board, made all sail for our station in Mediterranean.

We had not been long at sea when Dicky and I, wearying of the daily routine of duty, began to play pranks which were calculated to bring us into trouble. The boatswain, who rejoiced in the name of Timotheus Trundle, was one of the most extraordinary of his class, though not a bad boatswain for all that. His appearance in foul weather was that of a short lump of big coats and trousers, with a small red pumpkin growing out of them. On a nearer approach, one discovered in the said pumpkin a pair of red, ferrety eyes, an excrescence for a nose, and a hole into which his whistle fitted for a mouth, and on either side of it, on a Sunday morning, two very high shirt-collars, they towards the end of the week gaining a darker hue and an outward curve. On the top of the pumpkin was a round Spanish hat, the fluff of the catskin which composed it being long enough to make a dozen beavers. He wore, with considerable pride, round his neck a handsome silver call and chain. But with all his oddities, his enemies—and he had a few—were obliged to confess that he knew and did his duty as well as any man in the ship. Among his other qualifications, he was a bit of a sea-lawyer; not of the cantankerous sort, however, for it might be more justly said that he preferred sitting on the judicial bench, and he was ever ready to settle all disputes either by arbitration or the rope’s-end; indeed, in most cases he had recourse to the latter, as being the most summary mode of proceeding. When his duty did not require his presence on his own territory, the forecastle, he was fond of taking a walk on the main-deck, alongside the carpenter’s bench, for he was of a social disposition, and delighted in what he called ‘rasheral’ conversation.

Now, Ichabod Chissel, our carpenter, was another of those heroes of the tongue, who pretend to know everything, and never fail in a story for want of a little invention. By his own crew, who looked up to him and esteemed him for his sterling qualities, he was considered a first-rate politician. The two officers were tolerably good friends in general; but a very slight thing would make them fall out, though they as speedily patched up their quarrels again.

One day there was a light breeze and a smooth sea, and Trundle, not expecting to be wanted, had repaired to the main-deck, where Chissel was superintending his crew at work. Dicky Sharpe and I happened to be near, and observing that they were both more than usually excited, we drew closer to see the fun going forward.

“Well, that was a storm as fierce as ever I did see,” remarked Chissel. “Why, there was a thunderbolt as big as six of my fists put together, fell right through the decks, and out through the ship’s bottom; and if I hadn’t been there to plug the hole, we should all have gone to Davy Jones’ locker, as sure as fate. You was there, Trundle, and you know, old ship, that I speak true.”

“I was there! Yes; but I know you speak a hanged lie, if you say that,” exclaimed Trundle.

“What’s that you say?” shouted Chissel, highly indignant at being told he lied before all his crew, though he doubtless would have cared very little about the matter, had the polite remark been made when the two were alone.

Just then Mr Summers, who was the officer of the watch, sung out, “Hands about ship! Where’s the boatswain?”

“Never in his station,” observed Chissel, as Trundle, call in mouth, was making his way forward. “And very little use when he is there,” he added, either thinking the boatswain would not hear him, or caring very little if he did.

Trundle caught the words just as he was going up the fore-ladder, and though he could not just then take his pipe from his mouth to utter a retort, he gave a fierce look with one of his ferrety eyes, which showed that he acknowledged himself deeply in his messmate’s debt. His pipe sounded more shrill than usual, as he could not give any other vent to his feelings.

“There’ll be a row before long between those two heroes, just you mark that,” said I to Dicky, as we both hurried off to our stations.

“Ay,” said he, giving me a wink; “and I think I can put a spoke in their wheel to help them along.”

It was near twelve o’clock, the ship being put about, the decks cleared up, and grog served out preparatory to dinner, when the boatswain made his appearance before the carpenter, his anger in no way appeased.

“What’s that you were saying about me, Mr Ichabod Chissel, I should like to know?” he exclaimed, in an irate tone.

“Why, Mr Trundle, no man likes to have his ferocity (veracity?) doubted, and if you goes for to affirm that I’m a liar—I don’t mince matters, you’ll understand me,—why, all I’ve got to say is, that you’re the biggest speaker of untruths as ever was born, whoever the mother was who got you. Put that in your pipe, Mr Trundle, and smoke it.”

This most insulting of all remarks increased tenfold the boatswain’s rage, and the two would have come instantly to fisticuffs, but that, fortunately, at that moment the order to pipe to dinner was given. The boatswain’s call came into requisition, and all hands, except the watch on deck, were soon busily employed in discussing the contents of a cask of beef, boasting of but a small proportion of fat or lean and a considerable superfluity of bone.

Now it happened to be Dicky Sharpe’s watch on deck while dinner was going on, and at one o’clock, being relieved, he came down to his own repast, which he was not long in discussing. While he sat turning a large rib-bone over and over, in disgust at finding so little meat on it, and waiting for the boy to clear away, the boatswain, whose cabin could be seen from the berth on the larboard side, roused up from a nap, and began to contemplate his visage in his glass, to discover if he looked in any way as if he had been asleep. It must be understood that it is contrary to the principles of a boatswain worthy of the rank ever to require sleep. He would consider himself disgraced in the eyes of the whole crew, if he were caught taking a wink. A regular-built boatswain is often on deck from half-past three in the morning till eleven at night, and should it be bad weather, or from any other cause, frequently two or three times during the night also; and as to his cabin, he merely looks in occasionally and keeps his donnage there.

Now, to do him justice, Trundle was a thoroughgoing boatswain. While he was rubbing his eyes, to get the sleepiness out of them, pulling up his shirt-collar, and brushing back his hair, the demon of mischief put a thought into Dicky Sharpe’s head. To conceive, with Dicky, was to execute. I happened to be descending from the main-deck, when I saw Dicky standing at the door of the berth, with the rib-bone in hand, and a wicked look in his eye. I instantly perceived the state of affairs, and divined what was to happen. Away flew the bone across the deck, with so good an aim that it made a cannon against the boatswain’s nose and his glass, breaking both one and the other with a loud crash, which was followed by a volley of oaths. The steerage of a frigate, even when a sunbeam penetrates through a scuttle, is not over and above brilliantly lighted; and on the present occasion a purser’s dip here and there just enabled us to grope our way about the deck. Now it happened that the carpenter at that moment was coming out of his berth, which was nearly opposite the boatswain’s.

“Oh! you blessed Chissel; I saw you heave that, you aggrawating so-and-so,” exclaimed Trundle, in a towering rage, exhibiting his bleeding nose and broken glass.

“I never hove anything, and that you know, you so-and-so,” answered Ichabod, drawing near to his adversary.

“You did, though, you so-and-so,” cried Trundle, doubling his fist, and dealing Ichabod a hit on the eye which almost stove it in.

The blow was given back, and returned with interest, with expressions not fit for ears polite, till the noses of both heroes were streaming with blood, and their voices were hallooing away at the highest pitch. Dicky was rubbing his hands in high glee at the successful result of his experiment, when the captain, aroused by the hubbub, rang his bell to know what was the matter. This sound, like that of Oberon’s magic horn, instantly paralysed the combatants; and the sentry having put his head into the cabin, and made some report which apparently satisfied the skipper, the two warriors, like a couple of lions growling defiance at each other, retired to their berths, to staunch their bleeding wounds, and wash away the stains of the fight from their faces.

Here the first thing which met the eye of the boatswain, as he stooped to pick up the fragments of his glass, was the missile which had inflicted the injury. Now, as the officers generally choose the long ribs of beef for roasting, for which they pay one pound in six for the good of the ship’s company, and the boatswain had actually seen the carpenter’s servant carrying a piece of rib-beef for his master’s dinner, he felt perfectly satisfied who had thrown the bone. Seizing it, therefore, in his hand, with the fragments of his glass, and his nose still bleeding, he rushed on deck, and halted, quivering with rage, on the quarter-deck, in presence of the first-lieutenant.

“By Jupiter, what a wigging I shall get,” whispered Dicky, in a terrible funk. “I say, D’Arcy, my boy, don’t ’peach, though.”

I cocked my eye, and, pointing to the masthead,—“Six hours a day for the next week, eh!—pleasant, Dicky,” I answered.

Master Dicky dared not show his face, lest his consciousness of guilt might betray itself; for, though unable to resist doing a piece of mischief when the temptation came in his way, he had not got the brazen front of a hardened sinner. I also, anxious as I was to learn the result of the trial, was afraid of showing too great an interest in it, lest suspicion should fall on me, and therefore walked the quarter-deck at a respectful distance, picking up what information I could on the way.

“What is this you have to complain of, Mr Trundle?” asked the first-lieutenant, as he stood at the capstern-head, with the enraged boatswain before him.

“Why, sir, as I was a-cleaning myself just now in my cabin, a-thinking no harm of nobody, Mr Ichabod Chissel, the carpenter of this here ship, sir, and my brother officer, thinks fit to heave this here rib-bone right across the steerage against my nose and my glass, and breaks both on ’em. If that ain’t enough to aggrawate and perwoke and—and—and—(he stopped for a word) flabbergast any one, I don’t know what is, sir, you’ll allow.”

“Very much so, I grant,” observed Mr Du Pre, taking the bone between his fingers and holding it behind his back. “Send Mr Chissel here.”

The carpenter soon made his appearance.

“Pray, Mr Chissel, what part of the meat had you for your dinner, to-day?” asked Mr Du Pre.

“The tail, sir,” said the carpenter.

“What became of the bone after dinner?” asked the first-lieutenant.

“The boy cleared it away with the rest of the things, sir,” was the answer.

“Let the boy be sent for,” said Mr Du Pre.

Bobby Smudge soon came rolling along, hitching up his trousers as he approached the capstern.

There was a wicked look in the young rascal’s eye, which made me suspect he knew all about the matter. He was the most complete little Pickle in the ship, and was continually getting punished, and most deservedly too, by his master. The very day before, the carpenter had reported him, and he had got eleven finnams on the hand for having, in conveying Mr Chissel’s grog from the tub to his cabin, being detected in the very act of taking a hatchway nip—the said hatchway nip, let it be understood, being a sip snatched furtively by the bearer of a glass of grog on the ladder descending from the main to the lower deck. A finnam, I must also explain, is a blow inflicted on the hand, with a cane generally, by the master-at-arms or the ship’s corporal. To the said finnams poor Bobby Smudge’s black paws were well accustomed.

“Boy, what was done with the bone after your master’s dinner?” asked Mr Du Pre, in a severe tone.

“I’m sure I don’t know, sir,” replied Bobby Smudge, in a long drawl, worthy of a London professional street-beggar.

“Should you know it again if you saw it?” asked the first-lieutenant.

“Oh yes, sir; I’m sure I should,” replied Master Smudge, brightening up and looking the picture of innocent simplicity.

“Well, my boy, what do you say to this?” said Mr Du Pre, producing the bone from behind his back.

All eyes turned towards Bobby Smudge: the carpenter’s fate hung on his decision. The young monkey felt his importance, and determined to exert it. Chissel knew it was the very sort of bone he had scraped not an hour before. Bobby took it, and, turning it round, examined it narrowly.

“Oh yes, sir; I’ll swear to it, that I will,” he exclaimed, holding up his blistered hand behind his back so that the carpenter might observe it. “As I was a-trying to get my dinner off it, I notched it with my knife, I knowed I did, ’cause there was so little meat on it.”

“Oh, you wretched young liar,” muttered the carpenter, for he dared not speak aloud; “won’t I pay you off, that’s all?”

The boy heard him, and gave a grin of defiance.

“Mr Chissel, go to your cabin, and consider yourself under arrest,” said the first-lieutenant; “I must report this affair to the captain. The discipline of the ship cannot be thus trifled with; and officers especially, who ought to know better, must not be allowed to set the men so bad an example with impunity.”

Saying this, Mr Du Pre resumed his walk on the quarter-deck, and I hurried down to report what had occurred, to my chum Dicky. At first he was highly delighted at having escaped detection.

“Stop a bit, Dicky,” said I; “I don’t think you are quite out of the fire yet. It will never do to let the carpenter be disrated or dismissed the ship for conduct of which he is innocent. The truth must come out; and, to my mind, honesty is the best policy.”

“Well, but don’t you see, D’Arcy, I shall get mast-headed and have my leave stopped, and I don’t know what else—all for shying a bone across the steerage,” argued Dicky. “What business had the boatswain and carpenter to hit each other, I should like to know. If that stupid Trundle had taken the joke in good part, there wouldn’t have been all this row.”

I laughed outright at Master Richard’s style of reasoning.

“That argument won’t stand good with the skipper,” said I. “Now, come, let me do the only thing which can set matters to rights; because it is the right thing. I’m a bit of a favourite with Mr Du Pre, I suspect; and I’ll go up to him at once, and tell him the truth. If anything can get you off, that will; and if the affair reaches the ears of the captain, there will be a very serious row, I’m certain.”

At last Dicky consented to my plan, and without waiting to let him change his mind, I went on deck, where I found the first-lieutenant.

“I’ve got something to say about that beef-bone, sir,” I began.

“What’s that, Mr D’Arcy,” he exclaimed, turning sharp round. “When am I to hear the last of that beef-bone?”

“Why, sir, it wasn’t the carpenter threw it, but one of the midshipmen; he couldn’t help it, though. No one could, I’m sure,” I rapped out.

“Why, Master D’Arcy, I verily believe you’re the culprit,” he exclaimed, looking at me steadfastly.

I detected, however, a smile in his eye, which showed that his anger was not very serious; so I at once told him exactly how the matter had occurred, and that Dicky had begged me to come and confess the truth and intercede for him. Master Sharpe was therefore sent for; and having been severely reprimanded, was told that as soon as we got into harbour his leave would be stopped, and was then ordered to the masthead for a couple of hours, to sit there instead of on the stool of repentance. The carpenter was released from arrest, on condition that he should keep the peace. The boatswain’s nose mended in the course of a few days; and though reminded of the outrage every time he attempted to shave before his broken bit of looking-glass, he and Chissel soon patched up their quarrel and resumed their former intimacy. The person who fared worst was Bobby Smudge, who, never a favourite with his master, now obtained a double allowance of finnams, and a sly rope’s-ending whenever opportunities offered. Bobby began to discover that revenge, though sweet, may recoil on the head of the avenger, and become very bitter. More ultimately came out of the beef-bone affair.

Chapter Twelve.Reach the Mediterranean—Malta—A Ride on Shore—A Ball—A Heroine—Our Partners—Mr Nip and his Partner—An Odd Egg Hatched—Adam Stallman’s Advice—The Right Thing the Best Thing.Nothing of importance occurred that I remember during our passage across the Bay of Biscay. We had the usual heavy swells (though I have found it as level as a fish-pond), a stiffish breeze for a day or so, which gave us a cheery shove on our way, and light and variable winds and calms, which latter let us roll till our yard-arms almost touched the water, and effectually turned the landsmen inside out. Ten days after leaving Plymouth, we were in the latitude of Lisbon. It was early morning, and the land we were approaching was shrouded to common eyes by a soft silvery haze, which allowed only a circle of blue sea to be perceived round the ship, and a patch of about the same size of clear sky overhead. On the larboard bow was perceived a darker mass of mist, which after some time resolved itself into the well-known form of the Rock of Lisbon. The wind being light and variable, we drew very gradually inshore, till the mist suddenly lifting, as if at the command of a magician, disclosed to us the splendid and fantastic scenery of those rocky heights, as they rose proudly from the glittering ocean, which was dotted with numerous sails of fishing-boats and coasters, and here and there the canvas of some loftier merchantmen, making for the mouth of the Tagus. On the lower land, to the north of the Rock, was seen the royal palace of Mafra—a curious huge pile, imposing from its height and the large extent of ground it covers. I do not, however, intend to bother my readers with accounts of places and scenery, which they may find much better described in numberless books of voyages and travels. The wind freshening and coming fair, we continued our course, and, passing the Capes of Ortegal and Finisterre on the second day after leaving the Rock, were off Cape Saint Vincent, immortalised in naval memories by Sir John Jervis’ great action, and since then, by the way, by a very pretty bit of fighting under Charlie Napier, when he took possession of Don Miguel’s fleet with one half its size. Cape Trafalgar next came in sight, and was eagerly viewed by all hands, for, often as one may gaze on its dark blue cliffs, the deep interest they inspire can never fail; one is reminded that in their neighbourhood the glorious navy of England, under the greatest of its chiefs, secured the freedom of the world, and struck the blow which stopped the victor of continental Europe in his wild career of conquest. Peace to the names of England’s gallant defenders, who died for their country off Trafalgar’s Cape! and sacred be the memory of the immortal Nelson, our meteor-flag of victory!—But, little Neil D’Arcy, where are you steering for? Has the sight of Trafalgar made you fancy you can do a bit of fine writing? Just get back, boy, to your usual style, and leave such attempts to the pens of novelists and travellers.It was near nightfall when we made the Rock of Gibraltar; and as we passed through the Straits when I was snug below in my hammock, my journal contains no description of that wonderful fortress. When the morning dawned, the high mountains of Spain were just visible in the horizon; and the next land we sighted was the coast of Barbary, somewhere to the westward of Tunis. Six days after that we were in sight of Sicily, when, after hauling off the coast, a gale sprung up, and such thick and cloudy weather came on, that we could take no observations. The ship was therefore hove-to; and while sail was being taken off her I got an ugly fall, which laid me up in my hammock for several days. During my illness, Dicky Sharpe was constantly with me, whenever he was off duty, and we became greater friends than ever.“Do you know, D’Arcy, I am really very much obliged to you for having got me so well out of that scrape with the boatswain and the beef-bone!” he said to me in a tone of confidence one day, after we had reached Valetta harbour. “I have not ventured to ask Mr Du Pre leave to go on shore. Do you think he would give it me?”“I rather think not, Dicky,” said I. “Don’t say a word about it for some time to come, and then you can begin to look dull and melancholy, and to pine for the shore; and perhaps his heart will soften with compassion, and he will give you leave.”“Capital advice! Won’t I look melancholy, that’s all, when the time comes?” he exclaimed. “How soon ought I to begin?”“Not till I’m well and can go on shore to look after you,” I answered.The fact was, I wanted Dicky’s company when I could go on shore myself, which the surgeon told me I might do in a few days; and when asking for myself, I intended putting in a word with Mr Du Pre in his favour. When I crawled on deck I found the ship had taken up her moorings in Dockyard Creek, a branch of the Grand Harbour, from which it runs at right angles, on the opposite side to Valetta. Most deservedly is the Grand Harbour so called, for in beauty, size, and security it is unsurpassed; and it is singular that it should exist in an island of dimensions so limited. Malta has an individuality of its own. It is like no other spot in the world; and when one looks at the magnificent lines of batteries, bristling with cannon, and the mass of churches, monasteries, and houses, which towers above them, one can scarcely believe that the whole has been hewn out of the solid rock of which the island is composed. But I am not going to describe Malta. In three or four days more I was quite well, and having succeeded in obtaining leave from Mr Du Pre for Dicky to accompany me on shore, we landed at the Nix Mangiare steps, and took our way through the town. The first thing we did was to hire horses to take a ride into the country. Both of us could stick on pretty well (what midshipman cannot?); but as for science, we had none of it. At first we trotted on gaily enough, and then our horses broke into a gallop, which we enjoyed very much.“Capital goers, these!” exclaimed Dicky. “If they keep up at this rate, I vote we take a regular circuit of the island.”“Faith, then, I’m ready for that same,” said I; and on we galloped.So delighted were we at the way our steeds went, that we sat the saddles and held our reins rather loosely. On a sudden they both came to a full stop, and up simultaneously went their heels in the air. Over their heads we flew, and alighted some dozen yards off; while the well-trained beasts, with neighs of derision which were truly provoking, galloped back to their stables, leaving us to find our way into Valetta as best we could. By-the-bye, the horse-master had taken very good care to get paid first. Dicky sat up on the ground and rubbed his head, to discover if it was broken. I followed his example, and finding no bones dislocated, my spirits rose again. We looked at each other, when there appeared something so ludicrously forlorn in the expression of our countenances, that we both burst out into fits of laughter. We indulged in our mirth for some time, and then got up and commenced our walk back into the town. Fortunately we had not got any very great distance from the walls, so the walk was easy of accomplishment. We had proceeded about a mile or so, when two midshipmen hove in sight, galloping along in high glee on the very horses which had just disburdened themselves of us.“Hillo! you fellows, those are our horses,” sang out Dicky; “just get off now, will you?”But he might as well have called a whirlwind to halt; for helter-skelter, past us they dashed, without minding us a bit. Dicky was highly indignant.“Well, I never was so treated in my life!” he exclaimed.“Wait a bit,” said I; for I had a shrewd suspicion that the horses would play their present riders the same trick they had served us; and sure enough, in about ten minutes, we heard a clattering of hoofs behind us, and, looking round, saw the knowing old steeds coming, galloping along by themselves.“Now, now’s the time, Dicky,” I sang out. “You catch one and I’ll catch the other, and we’ll still have our ride out. The horses are ours, there’s no doubt of it.”Sooner said, however, than done. The beasts came on very steadily till they got close to us, and then they began rearing and frisking, and kicking up such a dust that it was impossible to catch hold of their bridles; and, it must be confessed, we were glad enough to get out of their way without being trampled over.“Where are the brutes?” I asked, feeling very foolish.“Where are they?” echoed Dicky, looking the same. “There they go, as steady as cart-horses. Hang it! they knew we were midshipmen.”Our only satisfaction was to see a third set of riders come out on the same brutes, and to be able to laugh in our sleeves, while we wished them a pleasant ride across the island. What became of all the riders I don’t know. The steeds again passed us just before we reached the gates.—Three or four evenings after this, the officers of the ship were asked to a ball, and the captain took Dicky and me. We did not know anybody, and were hard up for partners, till the skipper introduced us each to a Maltese girl. They were both very short, though that was a fault on the right side; but they were also very fat and very dark, and could not speak a word of English; and one squinted, and the other had lost an eye. Their noses turned up, and their lips were thick and large. They were not beauties, certainly; but we danced with them all the evening, changing every now and then for variety, though I had to look hard to make out which was my original partner, as I only knew them apart by the defect in their eyes. Dicky asked me if I didn’t think them as pretty as Alice Marlow, at which I very nearly knocked him down in the ball-room. But he appeased me by assuring me with the greatest gravity, that he admired the squinting one very much, and should certainly, if he were older, make her Mrs Sharpe. He did nothing but talk about her for two days afterwards; and, as we did not know her real name, we called her Miss Smaitch, which, though not euphonious, did as well as any other. On the third day he dined with an officer in the dockyard who had a numerous family of daughters, to one of whom he transferred his affections, and they remained steady for nearly a week, about which time we left Malta. To return to the ball, however. When Dicky and I were not dancing, we amused ourselves by watching what was going forward, especially in observing the occupations of our superior officers.“I say, D’Arcy, who is that young lady Mr Vernon is dancing with, I wonder? She is a stunner, isn’t she, my boy?” said Dicky, sidling up to me, and pointing with his chin towards a very beautiful girl, to whom our second lieutenant had just then given his hand, and was leading up to form a quadrille.There was a roseate blush on her cheek, and a brightening glance in her eye, as she looked up at the gallant officer, which betokened more than ordinary satisfaction at being chosen his partner in the dance. The colour increased, and the eyes brightened still more, while a smile played round her ruby lips, as Mr Vernon uttered, in a low tone, a few words in her ear.Dicky observed it. “I twig something there,” he whispered. “What will you bet me, D’Arcy, that Mr Vernon doesn’t splice that same young lady, now? It’s a regular case, depend on it. I thought there was something going on, he’s been so constantly on shore since we came into harbour. He’s a right good fellow, and I wish him joy.”“I hope, if it is a case, that he’ll not marry till the ship is out of commission,” I remarked. “I should be sorry indeed to lose him. But we must not talk so loud, or we shall be overheard.”Just then the captain came up, to make Dicky dance with Miss Smaitch. I was left alone to watch proceedings. From what I saw, I was fully convinced that Master Sharpe’s conjectures were well founded, and that Mr Vernon and the fair unknown were certainly deeply in love with each other, and most probably engaged. She certainly, as far as I could judge from mere appearance, was well worthy the love of any man. Young as I was, she made a deep impression on me; and even at this distance of time I can bring her Hebe-like figure before me, with almost the vivid colours of reality. She was not tall, but her figure was full of grace and life. Her complexion was beautifully fair; her eyes were blue; and the expression of her countenance was soft, feminine, and full of sweetness; at the same time, the arch smile which occasionally played over it showed that she was not destitute of sense and wit.While I was looking on, I was joined by Adam Stallman, one of the senior mates of theHarold. I have slightly mentioned him before. He was of a somewhat grave and taciturn disposition, but generous and kind, and as brave and honourable as any knightsans peur et sans reproche. He read much and thought more, and was ready to give good advice when asked for it; but innate modesty prevented him from volunteering to afford it, except on rare occasions, when he saw that it was absolutely necessary to preserve a person from following a path which might lead him to ruin.Dicky and I were favourites of his; for though he kept us in order, and more than once had inflicted a sound cobbing on my chum (certainly well deserved), he was very kind to us.“I say, Stallman, can you tell me who the young lady is with whom Mr Vernon is dancing?” said I.“Why do you ask?” he inquired.“Because she is very beautiful,” I replied.The colour heightened on his generally impassive, well-bronzed features, as his eye fell on the lady whom I indicated. “Yes,” he answered, with a firm voice, “that lady is Miss Blanche Norman, the daughter of Major Norman, who is out here for his health. But wouldn’t you like to dance, youngster?”I told him that I had been engaged by the captain to dance with Miss Smaitch Number 2.“Well, come to me if you want a partner,” he said, and moved on.I saw him soon afterwards go up and shake hands with Miss Norman. His lip momentarily quivered, I saw; but his countenance otherwise remained firm. She received him as an old acquaintance, and seemed glad to see him.I took it into my head that Adam was in love with her, or had been; but that, as he had little besides his pay to depend on, he could not indulge a dream of marrying. From what I afterwards learned, I was right in this conjecture. Poor fellow! he had loved her well and deeply, but he had never told his love. She might have suspected his attachment, but with the tact and delicacy of a right-minded woman, she did not allow him to discover that she did so, but endeavoured, by the frank kindness of her words and manner, to take away the bitterness from the wound she was inflicting. I do not mean to say, however, that at the time I knew this, but I made a pretty shrewd guess at the truth.In a little time Dicky came hurrying up to me with a look full of importance.“I say, D’Arcy, I’ve found out all about it. I heard our medico tell Old Nip (meaning the purser) that Vernon proposed a few days ago to Miss Norman, and was accepted; so they are regularly engaged, you know, and he has a right to dance with her as often as he likes. What fun for him! I know that I should like to be in his place. That’s her father: not the tall man with the white hair, but the shorter one next him. He looks almost too young to be her father, doesn’t he? Perhaps his being ill makes him look so. They are soon going home; but they are to stop at Gibraltar, so the doctor says.”“I am afraid you’ve been an eavesdropper, Dicky, to hear all this,” I observed; “and that, you know, is not a very creditable character.”“I know that as well as you do,” he answered; “but I could not help myself, for I was jammed up in the refreshment room between two fat Maltese ladies and the supper-table, and I couldn’t have moved without the risk of staving in their sides with my elbows. Old Nip and the medico were on the other side of them, sipping their negus, and didn’t see me.”“That’s all right; and small blame to you, Dicky,” said I. “Well, I heartily wish Mr Vernon joy; and if his love don’t run smooth, and he ever wants a helping hand, I only hope he’ll let me give it him.”“There’s nothing I should like better too, independent of my regard for Mr Vernon,” observed Dicky, pompously.I remember that we long discussed the probabilities of Mr Vernon’s requiring our services; and we came to the conclusion that, though we should be delighted to help him to obtain the lady’s hand in any way he might require, in principle the running away with a lady was decidedly wrong.The subject was changed by our seeing the purser lead out one of the fat ladies, behind whom Dicky had been hid, to attempt a waltz. Never was there a more extraordinary performance. Neither of them had a notion of the dance. They floundered and flolloped, and twisted and turned, and tumbled against all the other couples, till they spread consternation around; and at last found themselves the sole performers in the room. As poor Nip went twirling round, much in the way that a child’s humming-top does when it begins to stagger preparatory to stopping, he perceived a suppressed laugh on the lips and in the eyes of the surrounding spectators; and suspecting that he might be the cause of it, gave a convulsive gripe at his partner’s waist, or at the part where her waist should be, in order to bring himself to an anchor. The effort was too great for his powers, and both he and she came with a run to the floor, close to where Dicky and I were standing. There they kicked and struggled in vain efforts to rise. At this Dicky could no longer contain himself, but, regardless of the purser’s anger, burst into a loud fit of laughter. However, we ran forward to do our best to get the hero and heroine on their legs again, though we were too much convulsed to be of much assistance.“I’ll pay you off for this, Master Sharpe,” whispered the purser, looking up fiercely.“I couldn’t help it, indeed I could not,” answered Dicky in an apologetic tone; “you did look so funny.”“I’ll wring your ears off, you young puppy,” cried poor Nip, rising and shaking himself, in his rage forgetting the fair sharer of his misfortune.“Look to your partner, Mr Cheesnip,” said Captain Poynder, coming up, and guessing the cause of the purser’s anger. “Here, Sharpe, help me to put the lady on her legs.”By some pulling and hauling, and by others shoving behind, we got Madame Cheesnip, as we ever after called her, into a perpendicular position; but she was too much shaken to dance again, especially with the cause of her misfortune. Indeed, for the rest of the evening the ladies fought very shy of poor Nip, and we took good care to keep out of his way. Dicky and I stayed to the last, spending our time very satisfactorily between our two partners and the refreshment and supper rooms; and I am afraid to mention the vast amount of sandwiches, cakes, and bonbons which Dicky consumed, washed down by cups of coffee, lemonade, and negus. At length, when nearly everybody was gone, with the exception of a few other midshipmen, and the musicians could no longer wag their bows, we deemed it time also to retire. We had got leave to stay on shore, but it just then occurred to us that we had forgot to order our beds.“Never mind,” said Dicky; “we are certain to find them at some hotel or other.”As we were putting on our cloaks, we found that there were five or six more midshipmen belonging to other ships in the same predicament as ourselves. To get beds at that hour of the morning, we discovered was not so easy, as all the Hotels, from some cause or other, were full. We hunted about for some time, and were proposing trying to get on board our ships,—though Dicky Sharpe declared he should take up his berth inside one of the casks generally found down on the shore of the harbour, with their heads off; but we advised him not, as they are the usual abode of the beggar boys who infest Nix Mangiare stairs, and would be apt to have more inhabitants than one,—when some of the party who were on ahead, shouted out that they had found as cozy a place of shelter as they could wish. We were in the upper part of the town, which, as most of my readers probably know, is at a considerable elevation above the water. As it had lately begun to rain hard, and we had no desire to wander farther, there was a general rush made to the front. The cozy place to which we were invited, turned out to be an old family coach, which was standing at the top of a narrow lane intended to be used only by foot passengers. However, it was a place where some midshipmen had lately amused themselves by galloping up and down; but, to prevent such an exhibition of horsemanship, a guard had been stationed at the bottom, to prevent any similar attempt for the future. But to return to the coach. The first comers had taken possession, and one after the other the rest scrambled in, till by the time Dicky and I, who were rather behind, got up, it could hold no more: at all events those inside decided that such was the case. This was not what we had bargained for, and neither of us was inclined to yield his right to a share and shelter without a struggle. The doors had not been shut; and while Dicky boarded on one side, I tried to get in on the other. Wet caps and fists were dashed in our faces, but, undaunted, we strove on. I had actually forced my way in, and was stretching over my hand to my chum, who had got his feet on the step, when some one exclaimed, “By Jupiter! she is under way.” And, sure enough, our struggles had set the lumbering old vehicle moving. On it went, rolling and rattling down the steep pathway, which we had totally forgotten. To get out was impossible, without the certainty almost of knocking our heads against the walls of the houses on either side, of being jammed between them and the wheels, or of being run over. We hauled Dicky in to save his life, and away we all went together, the vehicle every moment increasing its velocity. The path, from sloping from each side to the centre, kept her on a straight course, or we should have brought up against some steps, or a kerbstone, and been saved from the approaching catastrophe. But no such good fortune was in store for us. Rolling and rattling, and screeching and creaking, and bumping and thumping, downward went the carriage, we inside keeping up a chorus of shouts and shrieks. Most of us laughed; but one or two, who were strangers to the place, were in a mortal fright, not knowing whether we might find a precipice at the bottom, and be shot over, perhaps into the sea. Very soon, too, we reached some steps, down which we went, of course faster than ever, with terrific bounds, till the cranky old vehicle could no longer stand the unusual movement.“Who goes there?” shouted the sentry at the bottom of the steps.“Turn out the guard,” echoed the sergeant, not able to make out the cause of the unusual commotion. Just then the carriage split asunder, and sent us flying, with swords, dirks, and hats, in different directions.“Arrah, was ever such an egg hatched before?” exclaimed the sergeant, who was an Irishman, running up and seizing hold of the first he could lay hands on. “Come, young gentlemen, I must march you off to the guard-house.”“March the coach off, if you please, sergeant; but we are innocent, like the new-hatched babes which we are,” cried Dicky Sharpe, who was one of those in custody. “The order is against people on horseback coming this way: we hadn’t even horses to our egg-shell.”The sergeant, amused by the way Dicky took up his joke, and seeing there was no use detaining us, consented not to molest us. We then invited ourselves to go to the guard-house, where we passed the remainder of the night, with our cigars to comfort us. I am sorry to say that we did not go back to try and find the owners of the coach, that we might apologise to them for having inflicted so much injury on their property, which we ought certainly to have done. We none of us thought anything more would come of it.“Oh!” said Dicky Sharpe, rubbing his hands, “the owners will think that the old coach grew tired of waiting all by itself, so ran down the hill to get warm.”We resolved therefore to say nothing about the matter. The next day, while it was my watch on deck, we were ordered to send a boat to bring off a party of ladies from the shore. Dicky, who belonged to the boat, went in her. As they reached the ship, and the sides were manned to receive them, I saw that Mr Vernon was in the boat, accompanied by Major and Miss Norman, and several other ladies and gentlemen. The care with which he handed her up the side, and the attention he paid her, as he showed the party round the decks, convinced me still further that what I had heard last night was the truth. Adam Stallman accompanied them; he was grave, but kind and courteous as usual, and seemed to take great pains to answer all the questions, some of them not a little ridiculous, which were put to him. Mr Vernon invited him to join the luncheon-party in the ward-room, so I did not see what followed.As soon as the boat was hoisted in, Dicky came up to me.“I say, D’Arcy,” said he, “it’s all blown, and we are in for it, I guess.”“What’s blown?” I asked.“Why, the coach affair, of course,” he replied. “As we were coming off they were all talking of it, and Mr Vernon said he was very sure I was one of the chickens, so there was no use denying it. If it gets to the captain’s ears we shall have our leave stopped, and I shan’t have a chance of seeing little Miss Smaitch again.”We consulted long what was to be done, but could come to no decision on the subject. After the guests were gone, Adam Stallman came down into the berth.“Youngsters,” said he, “I suspect both of you were engaged in the destruction of the coach last night. Is it not so?”We confessed the truth, and told him exactly how it happened.“Did you endeavour to find out the owners, and to make them all the amends in your power for the mischief you had committed?”We owned that we had not.“You neglected your bounden duty, then,” he observed. “You should recollect that every act of meanness committed by a British officer brings discredit on the cloth. When a man is guilty of a fault, he but increases it if he neglects to make reparation for it. Now, if I get leave for you to accompany me on shore, will you follow my directions?” We promised we would. “Well then, we will find out the owners of the coach, and you must go and tell them that you are very sorry for the mischief you committed, explain how it happened, and beg their pardon. I do not think you can exactly offer to give them a new coach; nor would they expect it, probably.”At this Dicky looked very blue; but he could not escape from his promise, and he soon mustered a sufficiency of moral courage to carry him through the work. I was, I own, very glad in being thus supported in doing what I felt was right.In the afternoon we went on shore, and set off at once to the scene of our adventure: The fragments of the coach had been removed. Climbing up the lane, we made inquiries at the top—at least Adam, who spoke Italian, did—for any family from the country who might be stopping at a house near at hand.“Oh, you want Signora Faranelli, whose coach was run away with last night by some ragamuffins!” said the master of a small shop where we inquired.“The same,” answered Adam.“She and her daughters are staying with Signor Bianconi at the big house, there.”Adam led us to the house indicated.“I feel in a great funk,” whispered Dicky; “don’t you, D’Arcy? What shall we say?”“The truth,” said I. “It’s the only thing we can say. Tell our tale from beginning to end.”We sent in our cards, with a message to say that two naval officers wished to speak to Signora Faranelli. Adam said he should wait outside for us, and told us to make haste. We were speedily requested to walk upstairs, and were ushered into a room full of company, when a very pleasing, kind-looking lady came forward and inquired to what cause she was indebted for the honour of our visit. As I knew Sharpe would make some mistake, I had offered to act as spokesman, and at once told the whole of our tale.“Oh, it was very naughty in the carriage to run away with you,” she replied, in a good-natured tone, in somewhat broken English; “and it was very stupid in my servants to leave it standing on the top of the hill, though but natural that you, on a rainy night, should take shelter within it. I had been told that it was purposely sent rolling down the hill by a party of tipsy naval officers, and I was resolved to complain of them; but the frank way in which you have come forward to explain the matter removes all disagreeable feeling on the subject, and I am very happy to make your acquaintance.”Dicky Sharpe drew a deep breath, as if some dire forebodings were removed. I don’t know what he thought was going to happen to us.“I must now introduce you to Signor Bianconi, and I am sure he will have great pleasure if you can remain and spend the evening with us,” continued the lady. “I shall hope also to see you shortly at my house in the country.”We thanked Signora Faranelli very much for her kindness, but explained that we had a friend waiting outside for us, who had, however, nothing to do with the carriage affair. Of course Adam Stallman was requested to come in, and, to my surprise, he consented.“I like what you tell me of the people, D’Arcy, and their acquaintance must be worth making,” he observed.We spent a very pleasant evening, got on board in good time, and the next day, meeting some of our companions in the carriage adventure, were able to relieve their minds from certain apprehensions of the consequences, and to tell them of the satisfactory results; nor did we fail to give Stallman credit, which was his due. They, the rogues, were now in a great hurry to go and apologise also; but their impudence, for a wonder, would not carry them up to the point for action.Whenever we put into Malta, Dicky and I did not fail to call on Signora Faranelli and Signor Bianconi: and many a happy day we spent at their houses. Often and often I have since seen that, by acting with truthfulness and candour, very much inconvenience, and even misery and suffering, might have been saved, and much good obtained. There is a golden rule I must urge on my young friends ever to follow:Do right, and leave the result to God.

Nothing of importance occurred that I remember during our passage across the Bay of Biscay. We had the usual heavy swells (though I have found it as level as a fish-pond), a stiffish breeze for a day or so, which gave us a cheery shove on our way, and light and variable winds and calms, which latter let us roll till our yard-arms almost touched the water, and effectually turned the landsmen inside out. Ten days after leaving Plymouth, we were in the latitude of Lisbon. It was early morning, and the land we were approaching was shrouded to common eyes by a soft silvery haze, which allowed only a circle of blue sea to be perceived round the ship, and a patch of about the same size of clear sky overhead. On the larboard bow was perceived a darker mass of mist, which after some time resolved itself into the well-known form of the Rock of Lisbon. The wind being light and variable, we drew very gradually inshore, till the mist suddenly lifting, as if at the command of a magician, disclosed to us the splendid and fantastic scenery of those rocky heights, as they rose proudly from the glittering ocean, which was dotted with numerous sails of fishing-boats and coasters, and here and there the canvas of some loftier merchantmen, making for the mouth of the Tagus. On the lower land, to the north of the Rock, was seen the royal palace of Mafra—a curious huge pile, imposing from its height and the large extent of ground it covers. I do not, however, intend to bother my readers with accounts of places and scenery, which they may find much better described in numberless books of voyages and travels. The wind freshening and coming fair, we continued our course, and, passing the Capes of Ortegal and Finisterre on the second day after leaving the Rock, were off Cape Saint Vincent, immortalised in naval memories by Sir John Jervis’ great action, and since then, by the way, by a very pretty bit of fighting under Charlie Napier, when he took possession of Don Miguel’s fleet with one half its size. Cape Trafalgar next came in sight, and was eagerly viewed by all hands, for, often as one may gaze on its dark blue cliffs, the deep interest they inspire can never fail; one is reminded that in their neighbourhood the glorious navy of England, under the greatest of its chiefs, secured the freedom of the world, and struck the blow which stopped the victor of continental Europe in his wild career of conquest. Peace to the names of England’s gallant defenders, who died for their country off Trafalgar’s Cape! and sacred be the memory of the immortal Nelson, our meteor-flag of victory!—But, little Neil D’Arcy, where are you steering for? Has the sight of Trafalgar made you fancy you can do a bit of fine writing? Just get back, boy, to your usual style, and leave such attempts to the pens of novelists and travellers.

It was near nightfall when we made the Rock of Gibraltar; and as we passed through the Straits when I was snug below in my hammock, my journal contains no description of that wonderful fortress. When the morning dawned, the high mountains of Spain were just visible in the horizon; and the next land we sighted was the coast of Barbary, somewhere to the westward of Tunis. Six days after that we were in sight of Sicily, when, after hauling off the coast, a gale sprung up, and such thick and cloudy weather came on, that we could take no observations. The ship was therefore hove-to; and while sail was being taken off her I got an ugly fall, which laid me up in my hammock for several days. During my illness, Dicky Sharpe was constantly with me, whenever he was off duty, and we became greater friends than ever.

“Do you know, D’Arcy, I am really very much obliged to you for having got me so well out of that scrape with the boatswain and the beef-bone!” he said to me in a tone of confidence one day, after we had reached Valetta harbour. “I have not ventured to ask Mr Du Pre leave to go on shore. Do you think he would give it me?”

“I rather think not, Dicky,” said I. “Don’t say a word about it for some time to come, and then you can begin to look dull and melancholy, and to pine for the shore; and perhaps his heart will soften with compassion, and he will give you leave.”

“Capital advice! Won’t I look melancholy, that’s all, when the time comes?” he exclaimed. “How soon ought I to begin?”

“Not till I’m well and can go on shore to look after you,” I answered.

The fact was, I wanted Dicky’s company when I could go on shore myself, which the surgeon told me I might do in a few days; and when asking for myself, I intended putting in a word with Mr Du Pre in his favour. When I crawled on deck I found the ship had taken up her moorings in Dockyard Creek, a branch of the Grand Harbour, from which it runs at right angles, on the opposite side to Valetta. Most deservedly is the Grand Harbour so called, for in beauty, size, and security it is unsurpassed; and it is singular that it should exist in an island of dimensions so limited. Malta has an individuality of its own. It is like no other spot in the world; and when one looks at the magnificent lines of batteries, bristling with cannon, and the mass of churches, monasteries, and houses, which towers above them, one can scarcely believe that the whole has been hewn out of the solid rock of which the island is composed. But I am not going to describe Malta. In three or four days more I was quite well, and having succeeded in obtaining leave from Mr Du Pre for Dicky to accompany me on shore, we landed at the Nix Mangiare steps, and took our way through the town. The first thing we did was to hire horses to take a ride into the country. Both of us could stick on pretty well (what midshipman cannot?); but as for science, we had none of it. At first we trotted on gaily enough, and then our horses broke into a gallop, which we enjoyed very much.

“Capital goers, these!” exclaimed Dicky. “If they keep up at this rate, I vote we take a regular circuit of the island.”

“Faith, then, I’m ready for that same,” said I; and on we galloped.

So delighted were we at the way our steeds went, that we sat the saddles and held our reins rather loosely. On a sudden they both came to a full stop, and up simultaneously went their heels in the air. Over their heads we flew, and alighted some dozen yards off; while the well-trained beasts, with neighs of derision which were truly provoking, galloped back to their stables, leaving us to find our way into Valetta as best we could. By-the-bye, the horse-master had taken very good care to get paid first. Dicky sat up on the ground and rubbed his head, to discover if it was broken. I followed his example, and finding no bones dislocated, my spirits rose again. We looked at each other, when there appeared something so ludicrously forlorn in the expression of our countenances, that we both burst out into fits of laughter. We indulged in our mirth for some time, and then got up and commenced our walk back into the town. Fortunately we had not got any very great distance from the walls, so the walk was easy of accomplishment. We had proceeded about a mile or so, when two midshipmen hove in sight, galloping along in high glee on the very horses which had just disburdened themselves of us.

“Hillo! you fellows, those are our horses,” sang out Dicky; “just get off now, will you?”

But he might as well have called a whirlwind to halt; for helter-skelter, past us they dashed, without minding us a bit. Dicky was highly indignant.

“Well, I never was so treated in my life!” he exclaimed.

“Wait a bit,” said I; for I had a shrewd suspicion that the horses would play their present riders the same trick they had served us; and sure enough, in about ten minutes, we heard a clattering of hoofs behind us, and, looking round, saw the knowing old steeds coming, galloping along by themselves.

“Now, now’s the time, Dicky,” I sang out. “You catch one and I’ll catch the other, and we’ll still have our ride out. The horses are ours, there’s no doubt of it.”

Sooner said, however, than done. The beasts came on very steadily till they got close to us, and then they began rearing and frisking, and kicking up such a dust that it was impossible to catch hold of their bridles; and, it must be confessed, we were glad enough to get out of their way without being trampled over.

“Where are the brutes?” I asked, feeling very foolish.

“Where are they?” echoed Dicky, looking the same. “There they go, as steady as cart-horses. Hang it! they knew we were midshipmen.”

Our only satisfaction was to see a third set of riders come out on the same brutes, and to be able to laugh in our sleeves, while we wished them a pleasant ride across the island. What became of all the riders I don’t know. The steeds again passed us just before we reached the gates.—Three or four evenings after this, the officers of the ship were asked to a ball, and the captain took Dicky and me. We did not know anybody, and were hard up for partners, till the skipper introduced us each to a Maltese girl. They were both very short, though that was a fault on the right side; but they were also very fat and very dark, and could not speak a word of English; and one squinted, and the other had lost an eye. Their noses turned up, and their lips were thick and large. They were not beauties, certainly; but we danced with them all the evening, changing every now and then for variety, though I had to look hard to make out which was my original partner, as I only knew them apart by the defect in their eyes. Dicky asked me if I didn’t think them as pretty as Alice Marlow, at which I very nearly knocked him down in the ball-room. But he appeased me by assuring me with the greatest gravity, that he admired the squinting one very much, and should certainly, if he were older, make her Mrs Sharpe. He did nothing but talk about her for two days afterwards; and, as we did not know her real name, we called her Miss Smaitch, which, though not euphonious, did as well as any other. On the third day he dined with an officer in the dockyard who had a numerous family of daughters, to one of whom he transferred his affections, and they remained steady for nearly a week, about which time we left Malta. To return to the ball, however. When Dicky and I were not dancing, we amused ourselves by watching what was going forward, especially in observing the occupations of our superior officers.

“I say, D’Arcy, who is that young lady Mr Vernon is dancing with, I wonder? She is a stunner, isn’t she, my boy?” said Dicky, sidling up to me, and pointing with his chin towards a very beautiful girl, to whom our second lieutenant had just then given his hand, and was leading up to form a quadrille.

There was a roseate blush on her cheek, and a brightening glance in her eye, as she looked up at the gallant officer, which betokened more than ordinary satisfaction at being chosen his partner in the dance. The colour increased, and the eyes brightened still more, while a smile played round her ruby lips, as Mr Vernon uttered, in a low tone, a few words in her ear.

Dicky observed it. “I twig something there,” he whispered. “What will you bet me, D’Arcy, that Mr Vernon doesn’t splice that same young lady, now? It’s a regular case, depend on it. I thought there was something going on, he’s been so constantly on shore since we came into harbour. He’s a right good fellow, and I wish him joy.”

“I hope, if it is a case, that he’ll not marry till the ship is out of commission,” I remarked. “I should be sorry indeed to lose him. But we must not talk so loud, or we shall be overheard.”

Just then the captain came up, to make Dicky dance with Miss Smaitch. I was left alone to watch proceedings. From what I saw, I was fully convinced that Master Sharpe’s conjectures were well founded, and that Mr Vernon and the fair unknown were certainly deeply in love with each other, and most probably engaged. She certainly, as far as I could judge from mere appearance, was well worthy the love of any man. Young as I was, she made a deep impression on me; and even at this distance of time I can bring her Hebe-like figure before me, with almost the vivid colours of reality. She was not tall, but her figure was full of grace and life. Her complexion was beautifully fair; her eyes were blue; and the expression of her countenance was soft, feminine, and full of sweetness; at the same time, the arch smile which occasionally played over it showed that she was not destitute of sense and wit.

While I was looking on, I was joined by Adam Stallman, one of the senior mates of theHarold. I have slightly mentioned him before. He was of a somewhat grave and taciturn disposition, but generous and kind, and as brave and honourable as any knightsans peur et sans reproche. He read much and thought more, and was ready to give good advice when asked for it; but innate modesty prevented him from volunteering to afford it, except on rare occasions, when he saw that it was absolutely necessary to preserve a person from following a path which might lead him to ruin.

Dicky and I were favourites of his; for though he kept us in order, and more than once had inflicted a sound cobbing on my chum (certainly well deserved), he was very kind to us.

“I say, Stallman, can you tell me who the young lady is with whom Mr Vernon is dancing?” said I.

“Why do you ask?” he inquired.

“Because she is very beautiful,” I replied.

The colour heightened on his generally impassive, well-bronzed features, as his eye fell on the lady whom I indicated. “Yes,” he answered, with a firm voice, “that lady is Miss Blanche Norman, the daughter of Major Norman, who is out here for his health. But wouldn’t you like to dance, youngster?”

I told him that I had been engaged by the captain to dance with Miss Smaitch Number 2.

“Well, come to me if you want a partner,” he said, and moved on.

I saw him soon afterwards go up and shake hands with Miss Norman. His lip momentarily quivered, I saw; but his countenance otherwise remained firm. She received him as an old acquaintance, and seemed glad to see him.

I took it into my head that Adam was in love with her, or had been; but that, as he had little besides his pay to depend on, he could not indulge a dream of marrying. From what I afterwards learned, I was right in this conjecture. Poor fellow! he had loved her well and deeply, but he had never told his love. She might have suspected his attachment, but with the tact and delicacy of a right-minded woman, she did not allow him to discover that she did so, but endeavoured, by the frank kindness of her words and manner, to take away the bitterness from the wound she was inflicting. I do not mean to say, however, that at the time I knew this, but I made a pretty shrewd guess at the truth.

In a little time Dicky came hurrying up to me with a look full of importance.

“I say, D’Arcy, I’ve found out all about it. I heard our medico tell Old Nip (meaning the purser) that Vernon proposed a few days ago to Miss Norman, and was accepted; so they are regularly engaged, you know, and he has a right to dance with her as often as he likes. What fun for him! I know that I should like to be in his place. That’s her father: not the tall man with the white hair, but the shorter one next him. He looks almost too young to be her father, doesn’t he? Perhaps his being ill makes him look so. They are soon going home; but they are to stop at Gibraltar, so the doctor says.”

“I am afraid you’ve been an eavesdropper, Dicky, to hear all this,” I observed; “and that, you know, is not a very creditable character.”

“I know that as well as you do,” he answered; “but I could not help myself, for I was jammed up in the refreshment room between two fat Maltese ladies and the supper-table, and I couldn’t have moved without the risk of staving in their sides with my elbows. Old Nip and the medico were on the other side of them, sipping their negus, and didn’t see me.”

“That’s all right; and small blame to you, Dicky,” said I. “Well, I heartily wish Mr Vernon joy; and if his love don’t run smooth, and he ever wants a helping hand, I only hope he’ll let me give it him.”

“There’s nothing I should like better too, independent of my regard for Mr Vernon,” observed Dicky, pompously.

I remember that we long discussed the probabilities of Mr Vernon’s requiring our services; and we came to the conclusion that, though we should be delighted to help him to obtain the lady’s hand in any way he might require, in principle the running away with a lady was decidedly wrong.

The subject was changed by our seeing the purser lead out one of the fat ladies, behind whom Dicky had been hid, to attempt a waltz. Never was there a more extraordinary performance. Neither of them had a notion of the dance. They floundered and flolloped, and twisted and turned, and tumbled against all the other couples, till they spread consternation around; and at last found themselves the sole performers in the room. As poor Nip went twirling round, much in the way that a child’s humming-top does when it begins to stagger preparatory to stopping, he perceived a suppressed laugh on the lips and in the eyes of the surrounding spectators; and suspecting that he might be the cause of it, gave a convulsive gripe at his partner’s waist, or at the part where her waist should be, in order to bring himself to an anchor. The effort was too great for his powers, and both he and she came with a run to the floor, close to where Dicky and I were standing. There they kicked and struggled in vain efforts to rise. At this Dicky could no longer contain himself, but, regardless of the purser’s anger, burst into a loud fit of laughter. However, we ran forward to do our best to get the hero and heroine on their legs again, though we were too much convulsed to be of much assistance.

“I’ll pay you off for this, Master Sharpe,” whispered the purser, looking up fiercely.

“I couldn’t help it, indeed I could not,” answered Dicky in an apologetic tone; “you did look so funny.”

“I’ll wring your ears off, you young puppy,” cried poor Nip, rising and shaking himself, in his rage forgetting the fair sharer of his misfortune.

“Look to your partner, Mr Cheesnip,” said Captain Poynder, coming up, and guessing the cause of the purser’s anger. “Here, Sharpe, help me to put the lady on her legs.”

By some pulling and hauling, and by others shoving behind, we got Madame Cheesnip, as we ever after called her, into a perpendicular position; but she was too much shaken to dance again, especially with the cause of her misfortune. Indeed, for the rest of the evening the ladies fought very shy of poor Nip, and we took good care to keep out of his way. Dicky and I stayed to the last, spending our time very satisfactorily between our two partners and the refreshment and supper rooms; and I am afraid to mention the vast amount of sandwiches, cakes, and bonbons which Dicky consumed, washed down by cups of coffee, lemonade, and negus. At length, when nearly everybody was gone, with the exception of a few other midshipmen, and the musicians could no longer wag their bows, we deemed it time also to retire. We had got leave to stay on shore, but it just then occurred to us that we had forgot to order our beds.

“Never mind,” said Dicky; “we are certain to find them at some hotel or other.”

As we were putting on our cloaks, we found that there were five or six more midshipmen belonging to other ships in the same predicament as ourselves. To get beds at that hour of the morning, we discovered was not so easy, as all the Hotels, from some cause or other, were full. We hunted about for some time, and were proposing trying to get on board our ships,—though Dicky Sharpe declared he should take up his berth inside one of the casks generally found down on the shore of the harbour, with their heads off; but we advised him not, as they are the usual abode of the beggar boys who infest Nix Mangiare stairs, and would be apt to have more inhabitants than one,—when some of the party who were on ahead, shouted out that they had found as cozy a place of shelter as they could wish. We were in the upper part of the town, which, as most of my readers probably know, is at a considerable elevation above the water. As it had lately begun to rain hard, and we had no desire to wander farther, there was a general rush made to the front. The cozy place to which we were invited, turned out to be an old family coach, which was standing at the top of a narrow lane intended to be used only by foot passengers. However, it was a place where some midshipmen had lately amused themselves by galloping up and down; but, to prevent such an exhibition of horsemanship, a guard had been stationed at the bottom, to prevent any similar attempt for the future. But to return to the coach. The first comers had taken possession, and one after the other the rest scrambled in, till by the time Dicky and I, who were rather behind, got up, it could hold no more: at all events those inside decided that such was the case. This was not what we had bargained for, and neither of us was inclined to yield his right to a share and shelter without a struggle. The doors had not been shut; and while Dicky boarded on one side, I tried to get in on the other. Wet caps and fists were dashed in our faces, but, undaunted, we strove on. I had actually forced my way in, and was stretching over my hand to my chum, who had got his feet on the step, when some one exclaimed, “By Jupiter! she is under way.” And, sure enough, our struggles had set the lumbering old vehicle moving. On it went, rolling and rattling down the steep pathway, which we had totally forgotten. To get out was impossible, without the certainty almost of knocking our heads against the walls of the houses on either side, of being jammed between them and the wheels, or of being run over. We hauled Dicky in to save his life, and away we all went together, the vehicle every moment increasing its velocity. The path, from sloping from each side to the centre, kept her on a straight course, or we should have brought up against some steps, or a kerbstone, and been saved from the approaching catastrophe. But no such good fortune was in store for us. Rolling and rattling, and screeching and creaking, and bumping and thumping, downward went the carriage, we inside keeping up a chorus of shouts and shrieks. Most of us laughed; but one or two, who were strangers to the place, were in a mortal fright, not knowing whether we might find a precipice at the bottom, and be shot over, perhaps into the sea. Very soon, too, we reached some steps, down which we went, of course faster than ever, with terrific bounds, till the cranky old vehicle could no longer stand the unusual movement.

“Who goes there?” shouted the sentry at the bottom of the steps.

“Turn out the guard,” echoed the sergeant, not able to make out the cause of the unusual commotion. Just then the carriage split asunder, and sent us flying, with swords, dirks, and hats, in different directions.

“Arrah, was ever such an egg hatched before?” exclaimed the sergeant, who was an Irishman, running up and seizing hold of the first he could lay hands on. “Come, young gentlemen, I must march you off to the guard-house.”

“March the coach off, if you please, sergeant; but we are innocent, like the new-hatched babes which we are,” cried Dicky Sharpe, who was one of those in custody. “The order is against people on horseback coming this way: we hadn’t even horses to our egg-shell.”

The sergeant, amused by the way Dicky took up his joke, and seeing there was no use detaining us, consented not to molest us. We then invited ourselves to go to the guard-house, where we passed the remainder of the night, with our cigars to comfort us. I am sorry to say that we did not go back to try and find the owners of the coach, that we might apologise to them for having inflicted so much injury on their property, which we ought certainly to have done. We none of us thought anything more would come of it.

“Oh!” said Dicky Sharpe, rubbing his hands, “the owners will think that the old coach grew tired of waiting all by itself, so ran down the hill to get warm.”

We resolved therefore to say nothing about the matter. The next day, while it was my watch on deck, we were ordered to send a boat to bring off a party of ladies from the shore. Dicky, who belonged to the boat, went in her. As they reached the ship, and the sides were manned to receive them, I saw that Mr Vernon was in the boat, accompanied by Major and Miss Norman, and several other ladies and gentlemen. The care with which he handed her up the side, and the attention he paid her, as he showed the party round the decks, convinced me still further that what I had heard last night was the truth. Adam Stallman accompanied them; he was grave, but kind and courteous as usual, and seemed to take great pains to answer all the questions, some of them not a little ridiculous, which were put to him. Mr Vernon invited him to join the luncheon-party in the ward-room, so I did not see what followed.

As soon as the boat was hoisted in, Dicky came up to me.

“I say, D’Arcy,” said he, “it’s all blown, and we are in for it, I guess.”

“What’s blown?” I asked.

“Why, the coach affair, of course,” he replied. “As we were coming off they were all talking of it, and Mr Vernon said he was very sure I was one of the chickens, so there was no use denying it. If it gets to the captain’s ears we shall have our leave stopped, and I shan’t have a chance of seeing little Miss Smaitch again.”

We consulted long what was to be done, but could come to no decision on the subject. After the guests were gone, Adam Stallman came down into the berth.

“Youngsters,” said he, “I suspect both of you were engaged in the destruction of the coach last night. Is it not so?”

We confessed the truth, and told him exactly how it happened.

“Did you endeavour to find out the owners, and to make them all the amends in your power for the mischief you had committed?”

We owned that we had not.

“You neglected your bounden duty, then,” he observed. “You should recollect that every act of meanness committed by a British officer brings discredit on the cloth. When a man is guilty of a fault, he but increases it if he neglects to make reparation for it. Now, if I get leave for you to accompany me on shore, will you follow my directions?” We promised we would. “Well then, we will find out the owners of the coach, and you must go and tell them that you are very sorry for the mischief you committed, explain how it happened, and beg their pardon. I do not think you can exactly offer to give them a new coach; nor would they expect it, probably.”

At this Dicky looked very blue; but he could not escape from his promise, and he soon mustered a sufficiency of moral courage to carry him through the work. I was, I own, very glad in being thus supported in doing what I felt was right.

In the afternoon we went on shore, and set off at once to the scene of our adventure: The fragments of the coach had been removed. Climbing up the lane, we made inquiries at the top—at least Adam, who spoke Italian, did—for any family from the country who might be stopping at a house near at hand.

“Oh, you want Signora Faranelli, whose coach was run away with last night by some ragamuffins!” said the master of a small shop where we inquired.

“The same,” answered Adam.

“She and her daughters are staying with Signor Bianconi at the big house, there.”

Adam led us to the house indicated.

“I feel in a great funk,” whispered Dicky; “don’t you, D’Arcy? What shall we say?”

“The truth,” said I. “It’s the only thing we can say. Tell our tale from beginning to end.”

We sent in our cards, with a message to say that two naval officers wished to speak to Signora Faranelli. Adam said he should wait outside for us, and told us to make haste. We were speedily requested to walk upstairs, and were ushered into a room full of company, when a very pleasing, kind-looking lady came forward and inquired to what cause she was indebted for the honour of our visit. As I knew Sharpe would make some mistake, I had offered to act as spokesman, and at once told the whole of our tale.

“Oh, it was very naughty in the carriage to run away with you,” she replied, in a good-natured tone, in somewhat broken English; “and it was very stupid in my servants to leave it standing on the top of the hill, though but natural that you, on a rainy night, should take shelter within it. I had been told that it was purposely sent rolling down the hill by a party of tipsy naval officers, and I was resolved to complain of them; but the frank way in which you have come forward to explain the matter removes all disagreeable feeling on the subject, and I am very happy to make your acquaintance.”

Dicky Sharpe drew a deep breath, as if some dire forebodings were removed. I don’t know what he thought was going to happen to us.

“I must now introduce you to Signor Bianconi, and I am sure he will have great pleasure if you can remain and spend the evening with us,” continued the lady. “I shall hope also to see you shortly at my house in the country.”

We thanked Signora Faranelli very much for her kindness, but explained that we had a friend waiting outside for us, who had, however, nothing to do with the carriage affair. Of course Adam Stallman was requested to come in, and, to my surprise, he consented.

“I like what you tell me of the people, D’Arcy, and their acquaintance must be worth making,” he observed.

We spent a very pleasant evening, got on board in good time, and the next day, meeting some of our companions in the carriage adventure, were able to relieve their minds from certain apprehensions of the consequences, and to tell them of the satisfactory results; nor did we fail to give Stallman credit, which was his due. They, the rogues, were now in a great hurry to go and apologise also; but their impudence, for a wonder, would not carry them up to the point for action.

Whenever we put into Malta, Dicky and I did not fail to call on Signora Faranelli and Signor Bianconi: and many a happy day we spent at their houses. Often and often I have since seen that, by acting with truthfulness and candour, very much inconvenience, and even misery and suffering, might have been saved, and much good obtained. There is a golden rule I must urge on my young friends ever to follow:Do right, and leave the result to God.

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