“Am I to go ashore with uncle, father?” said Sydney.
“Hush, my boy, once for all,” said Captain Belton. “You are a junior officer now; I am your captain. We must keep our home life for home. No, Mr Belton, you will not go ashore again. You have joined your ship, and your chest will be brought on board by the boatswain.”
“Is Barney going to be a boatswain, sir?” cried Sydney, in his eagerness.
Captain Belton gave him a look which said plainly enough, “Remember that I am your captain, sir!”
And feeling abashed, the boy looked in another direction, to see that Barney was winking and screwing up his face in the most wonderful way to convey certain information of the fact that in his inexperience Sydney had not read in his uniform.
“There, good-bye, Syd,” said the old admiral, after a few minutes’ more conversation with the captain, during which time the boat’s crew had been piped away, and Terry had hurried on deck to take charge once more. Then there was a warm grasp of the hand as the old man leaned toward him, his words seeming the more impressive after what had just occurred.
“God bless you, my lad!” he whispered. “You’ll get some hard knocks; perhaps it’ll come to a fight among your messmates, but if it does, don’t have your comb cut. Recollect you’re a Belton, and never strike your colours. Always be a gentleman, Syd, and never let any young blackguard with a dirty mind lead you into doing anything you couldn’t own to openly. There, that’s all, my boy. Drop the father, and never go to him with tales; he has to treat you middies all alike. There! Oh, one word; don’t bounce and show off among your messmates, because your father’s the captain, and you’ve got an old hulk at home who is an admiral; but whenever you want a few guineas to enjoy yourself, Uncle Tom’s your banker, you dog. There! Be off!”
Syd tried hard, but his eyes would get a little dim as the bluff old gentleman touched his hat to the officers, and went over the side, while the captain put his hands behind him and walked thoughtfully aft, to have a long consultation with the first lieutenant, after which he too went ashore without seeing his son again, and Sydney prepared for his first night on board.
There was so much that was novel that the new middy had no time to feel dull, and he spent his time on deck, watching the return of the boat, saw it swung up to its davits again, and then, after noting the marines relieve guard, and the sentries at their posts, he was going forward, when he encountered the officer who had before spoken to him.
“Got your traps on board yet, Mr Belton?”