“Sergeant, let them pay their bill,” said Captain Tartar, in a more subdued tone—taking his hat and sword, and walking out of the room.
“By heavens, Easy, what have you done?—you will be tried by a court-martial, and turned out of the service.”
“I hope so,” replied Jack; “I was a fool to come into it. But he called me a swindler, and I would give the same answer to-morrow.”
“If you are ready, gentlemen,” said the sergeant, who had been long enough with Captain Tartar to be aware that to be punished by him was no proof of fault having been committed.
“I will go and pack up our things, Easy, while you pay the bill,” said Gascoigne. “Marine, you had better come with me.”
In less than half an hour, our hero and his comrade, instead of finding themselves at the Marquesa’s ball, found themselves very comfortably in irons under the half-deck of H.M. frigate Aurora.
We shall leave them, and return to Captain Tartar, who had proceeded to the ball, to which he had been invited. On his entering he was accosted by Don Martin and Don Philip, who inquired what had become of our hero and his friend. Captain Tartar, who was in no very good humour, replied briskly, “that they were on board his ship in irons.”
“In irons! for what?” exclaimed Don Philip.
“Because, sir, they are a couple of young scamps who have introduced themselves into the best company, passing themselves off as people of consequence, when they are only a couple of midshipmen who have run away from their ship.”
Now the Rebieras knew very well that Jack and his friend were midshipmen; but this did not appear to them any reason why they should not be considered as gentlemen, and treated accordingly.