Chapter Twenty Nine.
A Good “Deal.”
In the meantime, the fleet sailed away from the scene of action, after honourably burying the dead and destroying our sunken vessels; so that the Chinese, who had a weak habit at that time and in later years, too, of indulging in fiction when referring to their martial exploits, should not be able to boast of having captured our ships, the Candahar putting in at Hong Kong to refit later on, after visiting Shanghai again on leaving the Gulf of Pechili.
Here Larkyns, who had succeeded poor Mr Stormcock in his office as caterer of the gunroom mess, distinguished himself, quite unwittingly, in a financial operation which gained him the credit of being a very “smart” fellow indeed in the sense in which our American cousins use the term; besides earning for himself the good opinion of all of us in the gunroom, whom he benefited by the exploit.
It happened in this wise.
Master Larkyns being ashore one day at Victoria, the chief town of Hong Kong, which is built up the side of a hill facing the harbour, noticing a lot of people collected round one of the merchant’s stores, asked naturally, midshipman like, “What the row was about?”
He was told an auction was going on; so, in he went to see the fun, taking much interest in the biddings.
Presently, a hogshead of claret was put up by the auctioneer, and, thinking this a good opportunity for laying in a stock for the mess, as we would be in commission probably in warm latitudes, for the next two or three years, when the wine would come in rather handy, Larkyns listened eagerly for the price and heard it offered at 12 pounds.
This seemed a big sum, but, if the worst came to the worst, and his messmates grumbled at his extravagance, he thought, he could pay for it out of his own pocket, he thought; and so, in his impetuous way, he bid 12 pounds, 10 shillings, without waiting for anyone to make an offer, which no one doing, his sudden jump having paralysed the brokers present, to his great surprise and joy the wine was knocked down to him at the price he named.
By-and-by, however, his joy was changed to grief; for, the auctioneer asked him for a cheque or a reference, when he found out that, instead of buying a single hogshead of claret, as he believed to be the case on bidding for it, he had purchased a whole consignment of the wine, of which the single specimen offered had been a sample—the transaction involved the outlay of more than 1500 pounds, which of course he could never pay, although he had the 12 pounds, 10 shillings he had offered, and a few pounds more in his pocket as well.
Here was a pretty to-do; and, he was just wondering whether he should solve the Gordian knot by cutting and running, when, luckily, a man without a hat rushed in breathlessly from a neighbouring store, and coming up to the auctioneer, asked him if the wine was sold yet.
“You’re a bit too late,” replied the master of the rostrum, pointing out Larkyns to his astonished gaze. “I have just knocked it down to this gentleman.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the stranger. “At what?”
“Twelve pounds, ten shillings.”
“Ah, that all?” cried the hatless individual; and, turning to Larkyns, he said with an entreating air, “I’ll give you an advance of ten shillings a hogshead if you let me have it.”
Our caterer was quite bewildered.
“I don’t mind,” he said at last, looking from the auctioneer to the stranger and back again to his creditor, who stood waiting for the 1500 pound cheque. “That is, if this gentleman here is satisfied.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” said the auctioneer. “I know Mr —, and his word is as good as his bond. He’ll give you the difference between your bid and his present offer, and you’ll gain something by the deal.”
“By Jove!” cried Larkyns. “I never thought of that, but I wanted some wine for the mess.”
“I daresay we can manage that,” said the buyer, evidently pleased with his bargain, though had he known of my friend’s mistake in time before he made his offer he might not have been so generous. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I will give you 50 pounds to take over the consignment, and a cask of the wine into the bargain.”
This Master Larkyns readily agreed to, as may be well imagined; and the upshot of the affair was, that our mess funds were 50 pounds richer by this visit of Larkyns to the auction rooms.
This enabled us to live “like fighting cocks” while we remained in port; and when the wardroom officers chanced to pay us a visit, which I noticed they more frequently did now than formerly, we were able to offer them a glass of claret, which was rather a novelty in those days in the gunroom mess.
After refitting, we went for a cruise to the East Indies, where we found the new admiral who had come out to replace Admiral Hope; and, in the spring of the following year, having served for eighteen months as a naval cadet, I was promoted to the rank of midshipman, the captain and first lieutenant, having convinced themselves of my competency by asking me how I would manage to get a six-pounder to the top of a perpendicular hill, my answer to which question was that I would head it up in a cask and “parbuckle” it up.
“Glass-eye” smiled rather quizzingly at this, requesting to know what sort of cask I would employ. I settled him at once, however, by saying that a claret cask would do; there having been a joke current of his coming to see how the gunroom was getting on about luncheon time, at the time our wine cellar had been so sumptuously replenished by Larkyns, who, by the way, got his step to acting mate the same month that I was made midshipman.