“Well, that is cool. So, sir, you mean to deny that you drank two bottles of my port wine yesterday evening, and that you did not give me your IOU for the twenty shillings you borrowed of me? I’ll trouble you, if you please, for the money,” for I was getting angry, “as I am quite a stranger to the head swabwasher, and should not like to trouble the gentleman either for cash or slops, without a formal introduction.”
At this juncture, the fiery face of the port-admiral became more fiery, his fierce small eye more flashing, and his ivory-handled stick was lifted up tremblingly, not with fear, but rage. “Pray sir,” said he to me, “who is he?” pointing to my friend; “and who are you?”
“This gentleman, sir, I take to be either a swindler or Josiah Cheeks, Major-General of the Horse Marines, of his Majesty’s ship, the Merry Dun, of Dover,” handing to the admiral the acknowledgment; “and I am, sir, Ralph Rattlin, just come down to join his Majesty’s ship, the Eos.”
“I’ll answer for the truth of the latter part of this young gentleman’s assertion,” said Captain Reud, now coming forward with Lieutenant Farmer.
“Is this your writing, sir?” said the admiral to the discomfited master’s mate, in a voice worse than thunder; for it was almost as loud, and infinitely more disagreeable. “I see by your damned skulking look, that you have been making a scoundrel of yourself, and a fool of this poor innocent boy.”
“I hope, sir, you do not think me a fool for believing an English officer incapable of a lie?”
“Well said, boy, well said—I see—this scamp has turned out to be both the scoundrel and the fool.”
“I only meant it for a joke, sir,” said the soi-disant Mr Cheeks, taking off his hat, and holding it humbly in his hand.
“Take up your note directly, or I shall expel you the service for forgery.”
The delinquent fumbled for some time in his pocket, and at length could produce only threepence farthing, a tobacco-stopper, and an unpaid tavern-bill. He was forced to confess he had not the money about him.