I am pleased with my new captain—Obtain leave to go home—Find my father afflicted with a very strange disease, and prove myself a very good doctor, although the disorder always breaks out in a fresh place.
The day after O’Brien had sailed for the East Indies, the dock-yard men came on board to survey the brig, and she was found so defective, as to be ordered into dock. I had received letters from my sister, who was overjoyed at the intelligence of my safe return, and the anticipation of seeing me. The accounts of my father were, however, very unsatisfactory. My sister wrote, that disappointment and anxiety had had such an effect upon him that he was deranged in his intellect. Our new captain came down to join us. He was a very young man, and had never before commanded a ship. His character as lieutenant was well known, and not very satisfactory, being that of a harsh, unpleasant officer; but, as he had never been first lieutenant, it was impossible to say what he might prove when in command of a ship. Still we were a little anxious about it, and severely regretted the loss of O’Brien.
He came on board the hulk to which the ship’s company had been turned over, and read his commission. He proved to be all affability, condescension, and good-nature. To me he was particularly polite, stating that he should not interfere with me in carrying on the duty, as I must be so well acquainted with the ship’s company. We thought that those who gave us the information must have been prejudiced or mistaken in his character. During the half-hour that he remained on board, I stated that now that the brig was in dock, I should like very much to have an opportunity of seeing my friends, if he would sanction my asking for leave.
To this he cheerfully consented, adding, that he would extend it upon his own responsibility. My letter to the Admiralty was therefore forwarded through him, and was answered in the affirmative. The day afterwards, I set off by the coach, and once more embraced my dear sister.
After the first congratulations were over, I inquired about my father; she replied, that he was so wild that nobody could manage him. That he was melancholy and irritable at the same time, and was certainly deranged, fancying himself to be made of various substances, or to be in a certain trade or capacity. That he generally remained in this way four or five days, when he went to bed, and slept for twenty-four hours, or more, and awoke with some new strange imagination in his head. His language was violent, but that, in other respects, he seemed to be more afraid of other people than inclined to be mischievous; and that every day he was getting more strange and ridiculous. He had now just risen from one of his long naps, and was in his study; that before he had fallen asleep he had fancied himself to be a carpenter, and had sawed and chopped up several articles of furniture in the house.
I quitted my sister to see my father, whom I found in his easy-chair. I was much shocked at his appearance. He was thin and haggard his eyes were wild, and he remained with his mouth constantly open. A sick nurse, who had been hired by my sister, was standing by him.
“Pish, pish, pish, pish!” cried my father; “what can you, a stupid old woman, know about my inside? I tell you the gas is generating fast, and even now I can hardly keep on my chair. I’m lifting—lifting now; and if you don’t tie me down with cords, I shall go up like a balloon.”
“Indeed, sir,” replied the woman, “it’s only the wind in your stomach. You’ll break it off directly.”
“It’s inflammable gas, you old hecate!—I know it is. Tell me will you get a cord, or will you not? Hah! who’s that—Peter? Why you’ve dropped from the clouds, just in time to see me mount up to them.”
“I hope you feel yourself better, sir,” said I.