When dinner was over, Jack narrated to the Governor the adventures of Mesty, with which he was much interested; but when they were quite alone in the evening, the Governor called our two midshipmen into the veranda, and said:
“Now, my lads, I’m not going to preach, as the saying is, but I’ve been long enough in the world to know that a compound fracture of the leg is not cured in fourteen or sixteen days. I ask you to tell me the truth. Did not you deceive Captain Wilson on this point?”
“I am ashamed to say that we did, sir,” replied Easy.
“How did you manage that, and why?”
Jack then went into further details relative to himself and his amour, stating his wish to be left behind and all that had passed.
“Well, there’s some excuse for you, but none for the surgeons. If any surgeon here had played such a trick, I would have hung him, as sure as I’m Governor. This affair of yours has become serious. Mr Easy, we must have some conversation on the matter to-morrow morning.”
The next morning the packet from England was reported off the harbour’s mouth. After breakfast the letters were brought on shore, and the Governor sent for our hero.
“Mr Easy, here are two letters for you, I am sorry to say with black seals. I trust that they do not bring the intelligence of the death of any very near relative.”
Jack bowed without speaking, took the letters, and went to his room. The first he opened was from his father.
“My Dear John—