It is a fine old building, this church, dating back to the time of the Crusades, when heroes as gallant as Admiral Sir Charles Napier besieged Sidon and captured Acre—like as he himself did some eight centuries later, long prior to his unsuccessful mission to the Baltic, the somewhat inglorious termination of which, unfortunately, clouded his naval reputation and ended his career afloat!
Chapter Three.
I get nominated for a Naval Cadetship.
“‘Sharp’s the word and quick the motion,’ eh, Jack?” said my father, using his favourite phrase, when the post next morning brought him a letter from the Admiralty in an oblong blue envelope, inscribed “On Her Majesty’s Service,” in big letters, stating that I had been nominated to a cadetship in the Royal Navy. “I knew old Charley would be as good as his word!”
“Hurrah!” I shouted, throwing my cap in the air, and forgetting all about a long-promised visit to the Zoological Gardens for which we were just starting, “Now I shall be able to go to sea at last!”
Dad seemed to share my enthusiasm; but my mother, I recollect well, ay, as if it had occurred but yesterday, put her arms round me and cried as if her heart would break.
Presently, when she had somewhat regained her composure, Dad, comforting her with the assurance that she was not going to lose me all at once, it not being probable that I would be drowned or slain or otherwise immolated on the altar of my country immediately on entering the navy, which appeared to be her first conviction, we all began talking the matter over; and then Dad proceeded to read over again the official communication he had received, commenting on the same as he went over it.
“Hullo, Jack!” he observed, on reaching the end of the formal document, “those red-tape chaps a’ Whitehall haven’t given you much time to prepare for your examination!”