"Take a chair, Mr. Nelson. I wish to have a few moments' serious conversation with you."
Frank, surprised at the captain's tone and manner, seated himself, and the latter continued:
"Are you aware, sir, that you have this day destroyed all the confidence I have hitherto placed in you, and have rendered yourself liable to severe punishment?"
The effect of this question, so abruptly put, was astounding, and Frank could only falter—
"Sir? I—I—don't understand you, sir."
"Mr. Nelson, I am surprised at you, sir," said the captain, sternly. "I shall have to refresh your memory, then. You have this day been guilty of misdemeanors, any one of which renders you liable to a court-martial, and to a disgraceful dismissal from the service. In the first place, you have shown gross disrespect to your superior officer, and"——
"I guilty of disrespect, sir!" repeated Frank, scarcely believing his ears. "There must be some mistake, sir, for"——
"Don't interrupt me, sir. I repeat, you have been guilty of disrespect to your superior officer, and of cowardice, having been found with your battery far in the rear at a time when your services were very much needed at the front; and then, after the fight had fairly commenced, as if waking up to a sense of your duty, and, no doubt, wishing to make amends for what you had done, you, contrary to orders, recklessly exposed your men, and, as a consequence, out of forty of the bravest fellows that ever trod a ship's deck—which were placed under your command this morning—you had but fifteen left when you returned on board. The energy displayed by you in working your battery, and the manner in which you obtained possession of it, after you moved out from your sheltered position, and had been compelled to retreat, were feats of which any officer might be justly proud, and which I should have been most happy to reward with your promotion, had you not spoiled every thing by your infamous conduct at the commencement of the fight. Hitherto, since you have been on board this ship, you have been a good officer, have always attended to your duties, and it pains me to be obliged to talk to you in this manner. I never thought that you, after what you did at Cypress Bend, while you were on board of the Milwaukee, would ever have been guilty of such misdemeanors. However, as your conduct heretofore has always been such as I could approve, I shall see that no charges are made against you; and I sincerely hope that what you have learned to-day will be a lesson that you will never forget. I shall give you sufficient opportunities to make amends for what you have done, and I shall commence by sending you ashore with a flag of truce, to ask permission of the rebels to bury our dead. You may start at once, sir."
This was a hint that his presence in the cabin was no longer desirable, and Frank, who, in his confusion and bewilderment scarcely knew what he was doing, made his best bow and retired.
What his feelings were as he listened to this reprimand, administered by the captain, who never before had spoken a harsh word to him, it is impossible to describe. He again thought over every thing he had done during the fight; how he had, at the commencement of the action, beaten back the rebels, with a mere handful of men; how he had, in obedience to orders, taken the exposed position where he had lost so many of his gun's crew, and which he had held in spite of the storm of bullets that rained around him, until the whole line had been compelled to retreat, and he was left unsupported; how he had twice risked his life in signaling the ship; and how, when the retreat was ordered he had brought back his guns in safety: he thought of all these things, and wondered where the charge of cowardice could be brought in. And then, when and how had he been guilty of disrespect to his superior officer? Certainly not in remonstrating against ordering the men to stack their arms, for that was a privilege to which he, as one of the commanding officers of the expedition, was entitled. In regard to recklessly exposing his men, the case was not quite so clear. It was true that, in the beginning of the fight, he had ordered a charge upon the rebels, who greatly outnumbered his own men, and had easily driven them, without loss to himself: perhaps it was there that the third charge had been brought in. But although he was conscious that he had endeavored to do his whole duty, the words of the captain had cut him to the quick. It had been an unlucky day for him. The expedition had proved a failure, and he had been accused of misdemeanors of which he had never dreamed. It seemed as if fate was against him.