“You are, my boy; but we’ll forgive you. Come on.” Mark hurriedly covered as much of his disfigurement as he could with his cap, and followed his messmate on deck, where, to his horror, he found officers and men all drawn up, with the shabby port and town of Goldby glorified by the setting sun, and all beneath the quarter-deck awning bathed in a golden glow.
One of the first objects upon which his eyes lit was the young lieutenant, looking weak and pale, as he sat there in uniform for the first time during many days. Tom Fillot and the rest of the prize crew were in front, and as Mark shrinkingly marched up to where the captain was waiting, Mr Russell gave him a friendly smile, and the first lieutenant one of his frowning nods.
Mark felt miserable, for, as Bob kindly told him afterwards, he looked just like an escaped lunatic, who had jumped out of a strait waistcoat into a middy’s uniform. He felt as if the men were smiling in derision at his aspect, especially Tom Fillot and Dance, who were grinning, while Soup and Taters displayed nearly every one of their magnificent white teeth.
There was a singing in his ears too, and a sensation of giddiness; and when Mr Whitney nodded and looked hard at him, the midshipman half thought that Bob Howlett’s words were right, and that the doctor was really going to lecture upon his bald head.
Then the captain spoke, amidst the most profound silence, and Mark felt as if he were a culprit, and as ready to hang his head; but somehow he drew a deep breath and held himself up stiffly, and his eyes flashed defiance, as he said to himself, “Let them laugh if they like. I did my duty.”
“Glad to see you on deck again, Mr Vandean,” said the captain, shaking hands, and speaking in his clear, penetrating tones. “I know that you have felt a little shrinking naturally, sir, but no British sailor need be ashamed of scars received in an honourable service.”
“Thank you, sir,” murmured Mark, in a choking voice, and his eyes looked his gratitude.
“I sent for you, Mr Vandean, because I felt that you ought to hear an announcement I have to make to the whole crew of her Majesty’s sloop Nautilus.”
He paused for a moment or two, and whispered to Mr Staples, who was close behind him. Then he nodded, and went on:
“The two schooners so gallantly taken, lost, and retaken by the brave little prize crew I sent on board, have been condemned and sold. They are beautiful little well-formed vessels, and have made a splendid price.—Silence!”