A loud murmur of approval greeted this effort on the part of the boatswain’s mate, and then everybody awaited in silence the reply.
A deep flush of gratification lighted up Captain Hood’s features as he said,—
“I thank you from my heart, men, for your—um—generous wesponse to my call, and I am sincerely sowwy that I cannot take you—er—eh—at your words. But the admiwal’s instwuctions are impewative, and I have no power to dwaw more than the specified number. As therefore you have all volunteered, the ‘Juno’s’ contingent shall be chosen by lot, whereby all partiality or unfairness will be avoided, and I hope that the awwangement will pwove satisfactowy.”
The crew were accordingly arranged in a double rank, fore and aft the deck, and lots drawn—each man choosing a folded slip of paper from a bundle, fifty of which were marked, the remainder being blank.
Then came the question of selecting officers, a proper quota of which were to go with the men. It came out at this stage of the proceedings that our skipper had been chosen to command the naval brigade; Mr Annesley therefore, much to his chagrin, found that he had no option but to remain on board. The second and third lieutenants tossed up to decide which of them should go, and the “second” was lucky enough to win. One other officer was required, and the lot fell on Percival, the master’s-mate. The doctor was to go, as a matter of course, but he was to be a non-combatant. Little Summers and I—poor Pilgarlic—were so entirely consumed with disgust, that we could find no words sufficiently powerful to express our feelings, and we simply stood glaring at each other in moody silence.
Suddenly a brilliant idea flashed through my brain. Winking encouragingly at the disconsolate Bob, I stepped boldly up to the skipper, and, touching my cap, said,—
“I hope, sir, as the officers will doubtless go ashore in the cutter, that you will allow Summers and me to land and join the storming-party. We will try to make ourselves useful, sir, in the carrying of messages and so on, and—and we have been looking forward so much to the affair that—that we hope you will not disappoint us, sir.”
“Oh!” said the skipper; “you wish—you and Summers—to join the storming-party, eh? Well, I weally don’t know what to say about that; it would scarcely be fair to the other young gentlemen, you know. Still—um—ah—let me see. The admiwal and some of the officers, not forming part of the stormers, are going on shore, and they will doubtless use the cutter; and as they will stay until all is over, I think you may venture to join us, and if you get into twouble over the affair, I must do the best I can to make excuses for you.”
“Hurrah, Bob!” I exclaimed, as I rejoined my despondent friend. “Faint heart never won fair lady; the skipper has given us permission to slip ashore and join the stormers, so off you go at once and get ready. And don’t be long, old chap, for the admiral and a lot more are going ashore in the little ‘Mouette,’ and we must be on hand directly our signal is made.”
“Never fear,” joyously responded Bob. “I’ll be ready in a brace of shakes; I’ve only to get my ‘weepons’ as our Scotch doctor calls them, and I’ll be on deck again as soon as you are.”