“These double-headed monsters are land birds and seldom risk a flight over deep waters. They are not for me. Your hardy, valiant Dane; your sturdy Swede; a nest of smaller fry,” he continued, passing his hand rapidly over a dozen little rolls as they lay, each in its own repository, “who spread their bunting like larger states; and your luxurious Neapolitan. Ah! here come the Keys of Heaven! This is a flag to die under! I lay yard-arm and yard-arm, once, under that very bit of bunting, with a heavy corsair from Algiers”—
“What! Did you choose to fight under the banners of the Church?”
“In mere devotion. I pictured to myself the surprise that would overcome the barbarian, when he should find that we did not go to prayers. We gave him but a round or two, before he swore that Allah had decreed he might surrender. There was a moment while I luffed-up on his weather-quarter, I believe, that the Mussulman thought the whole of the holy Conclave was afloat, and that the downfall of Mahomet and his offspring was ordained. I provoked the conflict, I will confess, in showing him these peaceful Keys, which he is dull enough to think open half the strong boxes of Christendom.”
“When he had confessed his error, you let him go?”
“Hum!—with my blessing. There was some interchange of commodities between us, and then we parted. I left him smoking his pipe, in a heavy sea with his fore-topmast over the side, his mizzenmast under his counter, and some six or seven holes in his bottom, that let in the water just as fast as the pumps discharged it. You see he was in a fair way to acquire his portion of the inheritance. But Heaven had ordained it all, and he was satisfied!”
“And what flags are these which you have passed? They seem rich, and many.”
“These are England; like herself, aristocratic, party-coloured, and a good deal touched by humour. Here is bunting to note all ranks and conditions, as if men were not made of the same flesh, and the people of one kingdom might not all sail honestly under the same emblems. Here is my Lord High Admiral; your St. George; your field of red, and of blue, as chance may give you a leader, or the humour of the moment prevail; the stripes of mother India, and the Royal Standard itself!”
“The Royal Standard!”
“Why not? A commander is termed a ‘monarch in his ship.’ Ay; this is the Standard of the King and, what is more, it has been worn in presence of an Admiral!”
“This needs explanation!” exclaimed his listener who seemed to feel much that sort of horror that a churchman would discover at the detection of sacrilege. “To wear the Royal Standard in presence of a flag! We all know how difficult, and even dangerous, it becomes, to sport a simple pennant, with the eyes of a King’s cruiser on us—”