It was not much after having served in the Ajax, but it meant leaving that uncertain and trying element, dry land, for another element on which Giles was much more at home, to wit, the blue sea. So he sent out for a pot of porter, and he and I, together with the bailiffs, drank to the Belvidera; and I swore, then and there, that go with him I would. For, in the excess of my affection for Giles, I would have taken almost any service to be with him. The frigates, too, were more in the way of activity, as the enemy was wary of meeting our ships of the line, but the frigates could go hunting after him. So, when I returned to Berkeley Square that day, I begged Sir Peter to get me a berth in the Belvidera. He was pleased with my spirit, and the very next day he went to the Admiralty for me. The complement was full, but, luckily for me, one of the juniors got a billet more to his liking, and Sir Peter, being on the spot, got me the vacancy, and I was ordered to report at once at Plymouth.
It took me but a day or two to get my outfit and make ready to start. Lady Hawkshaw showed me great kindness then, and actually allowed me to have a considerable sum of my own money. Lady Arabella treated me with her usual indifference, and, on the day I was to go, bade me a careless adieu.
When the post-chaise was at the door and I went to the Chinese drawing-room to tell Lady Hawkshaw and Sir Peter good-by, Daphne was there with them, and she looked as if she had been weeping. Sir Peter gave me a letter to my new captain, Vere, and some words of encouragement. Lady Hawkshaw delivered a homily to me on my duty, which I received out of respect for her real excellence of heart, and thanked her in a manner which made Sir Peter my friend for life. Daphne said not a word when I took her hand, but handing me a little parcel ran out of the room. I afterward found it to be a little housewife made by her own hands.
I went down to the chaise, puzzled at her conduct, but, looking up for the last time to the windows, I saw her peering from behind a curtain. I raised the parcel to my lips, and, as she saw it, a smile broke over her face. My last glimpse of her was like an April day,—she was all smiles and tears,—and it was destined to remain in my memory.
Giles Vernon was waiting for me at the corner of the street. We were to make the journey to Plymouth together.
“Well,” he cried, when we found ourselves rolling along to meet the coach, “I have had my cake and eaten it.”
“How I envy you!” I said bitterly. “I have not had my cake. Every shilling of my prize-money is in bank, except about two hundred pounds.”
“Poor chap!” answered Giles feelingly. “How much more of life have I seen in London than you! I have seen everything, including that queen of hearts, Lady Arabella Stormont. She has treated me cruelly, the jade! But I will bring her to my hand at last, that I swear to you.”
I longed that he might know of that episode with Overton in Sir Peter Hawkshaw’s cubby-hole at five o’clock in the morning.
We had a pleasant journey to Plymouth, and were troubled with few regrets at leaving London. We expected, in the foolishness of youth, to capture many more such prizes as the Indomptable and Xantippe. The Belvidera was nearly ready, and in a few weeks we sailed on our second cruise. I shall not give the particulars of that cruise. It was such an one as all the officers of his Majesty’s service were engaged in, during those eventful years. We were constantly at sea; we kept a tireless lookout for our enemies, and hunted and pursued them into their own harbors. We never slept for more than four hours at a time, in all our cruising. We lived on beef and biscuit for months at a time; sometimes we had scurvy in the ship, and sometimes we did not. We struggled with mighty gales, that blew us hundreds and even thousands of miles out of our course; and we sweltered in calms that tried men’s souls. In all that time, we watched night and day for the enemy, and, when found, chased him, and never failed to get alongside when it was possible; and we fought him with the greatest good-will. We had good and ill fortune with the ship, but her colors were never lowered. And it was five years before we set foot in London town again.