“Well, as you may suppose, there were many of us looking abaft, just to see what would take place, and were not a little astonished at the idea of his rewarding Jack with two dozen for saving his life; however, of course, we were mum. Jack was tied up; and the first lieutenant whispered a word into the ear of his master-at-arms, who again whispered to Williams, the boatswain’s mate; and the effect of that whisper was, that the cat was laid on so lightly that Jack hardly felt it; so lightly, indeed, that the first lieutenant walked away aft, that he might not appear to be a party in the consarn, and Jack was cast off without having half a tear in either eye when Old Duty went up to him.
“‘You fished last night against orders, and therefore you have received your punishment. You saved my life last night, and therefore it is my duty to reward you. I could not let you off this punishment, as it would be making the King pay you for me, instead of my paying you myself. I’m not a rich man, but here’s ten guineas for your purse, and here’s my gold watch. Spend the first usefully, and keep the other; and observe, Jack Jervis, if ever you are again caught fishing in harbour, you will as surely get two dozen for your pains. You’ve your duty to do, and I’ve got mine.’”
“Well, messmate, that’s a queer story altogether, and queerer fellows in it. I wouldn’t have minded sailing with that Old Duty. Suppose we drink his health.”
“With all my heart; for you’re right, old chap: when we knows what we are to expect, we’re always ready to meet it; but some officers I’ve sailed with shift about like a dog-vane, and there’s no knowing how to meet them. I recollect—But I say, Jack, suppose you turn in—your eyes are winking and blinking like an owl’s in the sunshine. You’re tired, boy, so go to bed. We sha’n’t tell any more yarns to-night.”
I was very tired indeed, and could not keep my eyes open any longer; so I went upstairs, and was asleep almost as soon as I laid my head upon the pillow.
Chapter Seven.
In which my mother gives my father a scriptural lesson. My father’s grief at parting with an old friend—He expostulates with my mother and quits the house.
I woke early the next morning; for the whole night I had been restless, and dreaming of the unusual occurrences of the day before. It was just daylight, and I was recalling what had passed, and wondering what had become of my father, when I heard a noise in my mother’s room. I listened—the door opened, and she went downstairs.