“And, Collins,” continued the captain, “I’m going to give you a week’s leave to go see your wife, and if necessary, at the end of the week you may apply for an extension.”
Collins was stunned with sudden happiness.
“A week’s leave!” he gasped. “Oh, captain, I don’t deserve it.”
“When you get back you’ll have a chance to prove you will hereafter. That’s all, Collins; I hope you’ll find your wife better.”
“Oh, thank you, captain; if I don’t act right after this I’ll prove myself a miserable ingrate.”
Collins was torn with conflicting emotions of gratitude and happiness. He could hardly believe in his good fortune. He went forward and shifted into clean clothes and soon left the ship.
It is likely that Ralph was even happier over the outcome than was Collins. His warm sympathies were all aroused; he was delighted beyond measure in the good that had come to Collins, and more than that he had been actively instrumental in doing a great service to a fellow man. All sorts of happy feelings crowded themselves into Ralph’s heart; and he was pleased to learn that these austere officers, ordinarily so sharp and so severe, were really filled with the milk of human kindness. In addition to this came gratified personal pride; he, a third classman, had been praised on the quarter-deck of a great war-vessel by its captain!
“Mr. Osborn, you have done your duty very well,” remarked Captain Waddell to him in the midst of these thoughts. “You saved a sailorman from the crime of desertion and subsequent imprisonment, and I’ve no doubt Collins will prove himself worthy. But you’ve done something else which as a midshipman you may feel is a great misfortune; you’ve lost your breakfast; the midshipmen’s tables are cleared up——”
“Oh, I can stand that, sir,” interrupted Ralph.
“You won’t have to; now go to your quarters and wash up and have the surgeon examine that bump on your head and then come up and have breakfast with me. Hurry along, now; I’m getting hungry and I’ll give you twenty minutes.”