Chapter Eighteen.
A Dinner Party at the Admiral’s Penn.
The dinner that evening at the Penn was a very pleasant affair indeed, at all events for Courtenay and myself; for on that occasion we reaped the first-fruits of all the toil and peril which we had recently encountered in the shape of that ungrudging and unstinted praise and commendation which is so welcome and so encouraging to the young aspirant for fame. The party consisted of three post-captains, a commander, four lieutenants, and half a dozen mids, ourselves included; which, with the jolly old admiral our host, made up a nice compact party. The guests, it appeared, had all been invited expressly to meet us and do us honour; we consequently found ourselves to be the lions of the evening. We were, of course, invited to tell our story all over again from its commencement, which we did, beginning with the mutiny on board the Hermione, the narrative being frequently broken in upon by questions from one or another of the guests, all of whom, I am bound to record, manifested the utmost interest in what we had to say. These questions, on more than one occasion, took quite the form of a severe cross-examination, the post-captains in particular seeming determined to arrive at a clear and distinct understanding as to the motives which prompted us in many of our actions and decisions. I was somewhat at a loss at first to comprehend the meaning of all this cross-questioning; but it became apparent later on in the evening when the three captains and the commander each formally offered to receive us on board their ships, one of which happened to be a seventy-four, whilst the other three were fine dashing frigates. These offers were all, of course, of a most advantageous character, and had we accepted them I feel sure that, joining either ship with the reputations which we had honestly won for ourselves, our advancement in the service would have been certain and rapid. But something in the admiral’s manner caused me to hesitate, so, with hearty thanks to each for his kind offer, I begged the favour of a few hours for consideration; and Courtenay, taking his cue from me, did the same. When at length we all rose to take leave of our host and return to our respective ships the admiral drew Courtenay and me aside, and said, as he shook hands with us:
“Before you decide to accept or to refuse either of the offers which have been made to you to-night come and see me. I shall be on board the flag-ship to-morrow at noon.”
We promised that we would do so, and shortly afterwards got under weigh in company with our fellow guests, the whole party being on horseback, for Kingston; our road, or rather the bush path along which we travelled for the greater part of the way, being brilliantly lighted by the rays of a glorious full moon.
The “autocrats of the quarter-deck” with whom we thus found ourselves privileged to ride cheek by jowl all proved to be splendid fellows, very gentlemanly in their manner, yet—having evidently sunk the quarter-deck for the nonce—frank and hearty as I believe only sailors can be. They permitted, or rather they invited us by their cordial manner, to join freely in the conversation, instead of relegating us to the rear, as some captains would undoubtedly have done in like circumstances, and held out so many inducements for us to join that I at length got the idea into my head that they actually wanted us. This frank and friendly treatment served one good purpose at least; it gave us a clearer insight into their characters and dispositions than we had been able to obtain at the admiral’s dinner-table, and helped us to definitely make up our minds under which leader, if either of them, we would serve.
Punctual to the moment Courtenay and I presented ourselves on the quarter-deck of the Mars next day and sent in our names to the admiral, who was in his cabin, just as the ship’s bell was striking eight. We were at once invited to step into the cabin, which we did, finding the old gentleman busy with his secretary writing letters. He had evidently just completed the dictation of one as we entered, for he remarked to the thin pale young man who was seated with him at the table:
“There, Purkis, that will do for the present. Just transcribe the documents you have already taken down whilst I have a chat with these young gentlemen; and I daresay that by the time you have finished I shall be ready to go on again. Well, young gentlemen,” he continued, “good morning. Find a couple of chairs and bring yourselves to an anchor,” waving his hand toward some of the articles of furniture in question as he spoke.