"Me, old George? Why, I'm going' to buy my discharge, and mean to emigrate to Awstraylea. I'm tired of soldiering."
"Are you, Joseph?" continued his friend somewhat sarcastically. "I know what sort of Stralia you'll reach. You'll go ashore, get a pint of beer, go up to the barracks, go to the canteen, treat a lot of fellers who is as greedy as sharks, get into a glorious state, have your furlough given you, go on a bender, be in a werry tight state for a week, wake up some mornin' to find you haven't got a mag, have a pint on tick, get histed out of the house and fetch up in barricks agin jest in time to larn your new drill. That'll be your Straylia. No, Joseph, you belongs to the sarvice, you don't know nothing outside of the sarvice, and the sarvice will keep you, mark me!"
The marine growled, out a reply, saying that he sposed he weren't a born fool, and knowed what to do with his own; but the audience only shook their heads and looked pityingly upon him. Their oracle had spoken, and they firmly believed that Joseph would do exactly as George predicted.
Towards midnight some of the watchers began to get tired of looking out for the lights, and the more prudent went down below when the watch was called at eight bells; but many of them were far too much excited to go to sleep, so they kept on deck until the morning dawned, and the grey fog lifted and showed them the white cliffs. They believed that the hour of freedom was at hand; and although the "iron grasp" was light upon them, many of the lads determined never to let it close round them again. Unlike the marine, they were intelligent fellows, who having once felt what the tyranny of a man-of-war was like, knew too much to place themselves within its cruel power a second time; and although "continuous and general service men," many of them were, soon after the Stinger was paid off, ploughing the seas in merchant-ships bound for America or the colonies. It was this anticipation which excited them, and kept them on deck through that night. They remembered Clare's punishment, Dunstable's death, and the other atrocities which had been perpetrated on board by cruel men in command, and all their subsequent good treatment by Captain Woodward did not prevent them from thinking bitterly of their slavery, particularly as a tyrant had followed up his too brief term of strict but just command.
The Stinger steamed up the Channel, and in due time arrived at Spithead, where she saluted the admiral's flag, and having discharged her powder, entered Portsmouth harbour, preparatory to being paid off, and by five o'clock on Saturday evening was made fast to the wharf, upon which swarmed a crowd of relations and friends, ready to fall upon the crew, and, if not prevented by the police, to carry them off piecemeal.
Major Barron had landed when the ship was at Spithead, and upon the Stinger arriving alongside the wharf was waiting with a carriage ready to take his family to the George Hotel. Great was the sensation when the mob beheld a lady led on shore by Captain Tortle, followed by a French bonne carrying a pretty blue-eyed baby; but when Cops made her appearance in the arms of Mr. Thompson—and that charming young lady kissed her hand to the crowd—all the mothers present, and there were not a few, cried "Bless her little heart?" and the spinsters, and other females, looked at the innocent face, thought of their own childhood, and, bad as some of them were, said, "Pretty darling, aint she lovely?" the acting-boatswain by his looks almost resenting any encomiums passed by the latter speakers.
When Captain Tortle had landed her mamma into the carriage, he turned to Cops as if intending to take her from her friend, but she resolutely refused to allow him to touch her, upon seeing which the mob laughed and the women cried, "Well done, pretty dear!" Tortle's disposition being known to the people, who were well posted in the peculiarities of most naval officers of rank. Mr. Thompson having placed his tyrant in the carriage, was rewarded with a kiss, after which, to the further admiration of the crowd, the Major and Mrs. Barron shook hands with him, and the vehicle was driven away amid the deafening cheers of the mob, who considered such an act of condescension required a special mark of their approbation.
When the passengers had departed, Captain Tortle returned to his ship and informed the crew that, in consequence of some orders received from the Admiralty but a few moments before, it was decided that the ship was to proceed to Woolwich to pay off, and as it would prevent a great deal of trouble, the admiral had ordered that the men were not to have leave, as the ship was to start early on Monday morning, but from 8 o'clock A.M. until 8 o'clock P.M. the next day their friends and relations would be allowed to come on board to see them.
This information was anticipated by the crew, who were, upon the ship's arrival alongside the wharf, told of the facts by the mob, who seemed to know all about it. So upon receiving their letters and getting sundry presents from their friends, and a supply of beer on board, they kept tolerably quiet, and the dockyard police having cleared the wharf, by eight o'clock that night, the Stinger was as still as a graveyard.
At six o'clock the next morning the crew were turned out, and after they had scrubbed and washed decks, stowed their hammocks, put all the ornamental work round the wheel, capstan, and gangways, and generally decorated the ship, they were piped to church, and for the first time since the battle of Chow-chan received the benefit of the regular clergy, and as their thoughts wandered elsewhere, proved anything but a devotional flock. It is true under the generous Woodward the prayers of the Established Church were regularly read to them once a week, but "The Articles of War" having been substituted for religious service by Tortle, the crew had fallen into indifference, and the only effect produced by the clergyman was a tendency to doze on the part of the boys, while the men looked as if they were swearing instead of repeating the responses.