“I have,” said I, pretending not to notice his altered looks. “I have, although perhaps I am not acting quite fairly by the commodore in forestalling him. He is coming to see you, sir, and, although he did not absolutely state as much in so many words, I have not the slightest doubt that he intends to give you your step. He has given me an acting order, and he therefore cannot, in common fairness, withhold your promotion from you. But naturally he would not take me into his confidence and categorically state his intentions toward you before mentioning the matter to you. But I feel as certain that you will get your step as I do that I am at this moment sitting by your bedside.”
“Well, that is good news indeed, and I thank you for so promptly bringing it to me,” exclaimed the invalid. “And I must not forget to congratulate you, Grenvile, upon your good luck, which, I tell you plainly, I think you fully deserve. But, although an acting order is an excellent thing in its way, you will have to pass before you can get it confirmed, you know. Have you served your full time at sea yet?”
“Yes,” said I; “completed it last month. But it is rather awkward about having to pass, though. I fear there is very little likelihood of my being able to go for my examination here.”
“That is as may be,” returned the lieutenant. “Anyhow, you cannot get away from here just yet; and it may be—I don’t say it will, but it may be—that an opportunity may occur before you leave. How did the commodore treat you; did he seem fairly favourably disposed to you?”
“Yes, indeed,” said I. “‘Fairly favourably’ hardly describes his manner to me. I should have spoken of it as ‘very favourably’.”
“Well, I am right glad to hear it, and I congratulate you most heartily. You say that the old boy is coming to see me. Now, understand, boy, if I can put in a good word for you without shoving it in, bows first, and knocking the old gentleman’s eye out with the flying-jib-boom, I will.”
The worthy fellow was now quite a different man from what he had been when I entered the room a few minutes earlier; I therefore thought this a favourable opportunity to top my boom and haul off; so, thanking him very sincerely for his kind intentions in my favour, I shook hands and bade him good day, promising to look in again upon him on the morrow.
Keene and I duly dined with the commodore that evening; and when the cloth had been removed, and the servants had retired, the old gentleman said:
“Well, Mr Grenvile, I called upon your friend Fawcett this afternoon, and had a fairly long chat with him, in spite of the doctors. The poor fellow will never be of any further use afloat, I am afraid; but he may yet do good service ashore if those fellows can patch him up sufficiently to enable him to go home. And I think they will; yes, I think they will. He was very much better when I left than when I arrived;” and the old boy’s eyes twinkled good-humouredly. “It is wonderful,” he continued, “what a little promotion will do for a man in his condition. Talking of promotion, I mentioned to him that I had given you an acting order, at which he seemed greatly pleased; and he said several things about you, young gentleman, which I shall not repeat, but which I was very pleased to hear, since they all go to confirm the good opinion of you that I have already formed. But he reminded me that before your acting order can be confirmed you must pass your examination. Now, do you feel yourself to be in trim to face the examiners at any moment?”
“Yes, sir,” said I, “provided, of course, that they don’t try to bother me with ‘catch questions’ of a kind that have no real bearing upon one’s practical capabilities. I have worked fairly hard from the moment when I first entered the service; my character will bear investigation; I am a pretty good seaman, I believe; and Mr Teasdale, our master aboard the Shark, was good enough to report to the sk— to Captain Bentinck, only the other day, that I am a trustworthy navigator.”