“Good morning, my dear Captain Belton; good morning, my young friend. I will speak to any of the commanding officers I know on your behalf. Good day.”
The captain stalked silently down-stairs, closely followed by Syd, and then led the way round and round the market, taking snuff savagely without a word.
But all at once he stopped and drew himself up, and gave his cane a thump on the pavement, while his son thought what a fine-looking, manly fellow he was, and what a pleasure it was to gaze upon such a specimen of humanity after the interview with the dandy they had left.
“Syd,” said the captain, fiercely, “if I thought you would grow up into such an imitation man as that, confound you, sir, I’d take and pitch you over one of the bridges.”
“Thank you, father. Then you don’t like Captain Dashleigh?”
“Like him, sir? A confounded ungrateful dandy Jackanapes captain of a seventy-four-gun ship! Great heavens! the Government must be mad. But that’s it—interest at court! Such a fellow has been promoted over the heads of hundreds of better men. All your uncle’s services to him forgotten, and mine too.”
“But if there wasn’t room in his ship, father?”
“Room in his ship sir?” cried the captain, wrathfully. “Do you think there would not have been room in my ship for the son and nephew of two old friends? Why, hang me, if I’d been under that man’s obligations, I’d have shared my cabin with the boy but what he should have gone.”
“Yes, father, I think you would. So we’ve failed.”
“Failed? Yes. No; never say die. But I’m glad. Hang him! With a captain like that, what is the ship’s company likely to be! No, Syd, if you can’t go afloat with a decent captain, you shall turn doctor or tailor.”