The culprit, undiscovered save by his immediate neighbours, hugged himself at the success of his sally.
A minute later, when the band began to tune up for the overture, the first lieutenant appeared from one of the after-hatches. He had the reputation of being a 'taut hand;' but the men loved him dearly, and his arrival was the signal for a volley of cheers and hand-claps. He faced the audience nervously, bowed and smiled, and then, watch in hand, walked across to the bandmaster and held a whispered conversation.
Other officers came up the after-hatches and filed into their places. They were greeted with round after round of applause, as, very red in the face and very uncomfortable, they settled down in their seats. The Belligerent was notoriously a happy ship, and on occasions of this kind her ship's company were not slow in showing their appreciation for their officers.
The captain had been having a dinner-party in his cabin for some of the married officers and their wives; and he, the commander, the engineer-commander, the fleet surgeon, Hatherley, and Tickle, with their respective wives, arrived last. They, too, received their share of cheers while taking their seats. The captain, however, remained standing, and held up his hand for silence.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' he said when the uproar had subsided, 'I am very glad to see you all here to-night, and I hope you will enjoy the entertainment. The first lieutenant asked me to sing you a song myself, but I'm afraid I'm getting too old for that sort'——
Loud cries of 'No, no!' and more cheering.
'I am,' he continued, laughing, 'though you may not believe it. What I want to tell you is that I have arranged for light refreshments to be served in the battery during the interval, so I hope you will all—er—do full justice to them.'
Loud cheers, during which Captain Spencer sat down and nodded to the first lieutenant for the entertainment to begin.
The latter rose from his chair and glanced at his programme. 'Ladies and gentlemen,' he said, 'the first item on the list is a selection by the band. It is called—er—"Down Channel," and has been specially composed for the occasion by Mr Johnson, the bandmaster.' He sat down again.
The bandmaster rapped twice with his baton, and with a rattle of drums the music began. The selection was a strange pot-pourri of every nautical song that Mr Johnson had ever heard. It started off with a variation of 'Hearts of Oak,' wandered into 'The Bay of Biscay,' 'Tom Bowling,' 'They all love Jack,' and several other tunes, ancient and modern, and finished off with 'The Red, White, and Blue' and 'Rule Britannia.' It was hardly original, but it was received with vociferous applause. The bandmaster, highly satisfied, turned and bowed his acknowledgments with great dignity.