"I wonder," said the Ugly Duckling to Dr. Grant, "if we shall be ordered home."
"Not the ghost of a chance of that, mother's brave and beautiful boy," replied Grant; "but we'll have letters, and lots of further despatches sending us off wild-goose chasing all over the world."
"Well, I like it," said Creggan.
"So do I," said Sidney Wickens.
Creggan was twenty-one now, and a handsome sailor he looked in his jacket of blue, with his budding moustache of darkest down, his bright face, and happy smile that nothing could banish.
When Captain Leeward returned, they soon found that Grant was right in his surmise. There was no "Ordered home", but plenty of despatches for many parts of the world.
There were letters from home. It is needless to say that these were hailed with delight.
But there was something else as well, namely, an order addressed to sub-lieutenants Creggan Ogg M'Vayne and Sidney Wickens to repair forthwith on board the flag-ship and pay their respects to the admiral.
"Something good, I'll be bound!" said Grant. "Ah, you're lucky lads! The Lords Commissioners seldom think of us poor slaving surgeons. Heigho!"
The admiral received them on his quarter-deck with great affability. Then he asked them in to his own quarters and bade them be seated.