This was, of course, a vilification, and Lady Hawkshaw’s name was not Polly, but Apollonia; but I blush to say I spoke not one word in defense of either her or her name. It occurred to me that my new friend was a person who could give me much information about my outfit and uniforms, and I candidly stated my case to him.
“Come on,” he cried. “There’s a rascal of a haberdasher here who lives off his Majesty’s officers, and I’ll take you there and fit you out; for Sir Peter’s the man to have his young officers smart. A friend of mine—poor fellow!—happened to be caught in mufti in the Ajax the other day, and Sir Peter had all hands turned up for an execution. My unhappy friend begged that he might be shot instead of hanged, and Sir Peter, I’ll admit, granted him the favor. The poor fellow tied the handkerchief over his eyes himself, forgave all his enemies, and asked his friends to pay his debts. Zounds, ’twas the most affecting scene I ever witnessed.”
I plainly perceived that my companion was talking to frighten me, and showed it by thrusting my tongue into my cheek, which caused him to burst out laughing. He presently became grave, however, and assured me solemnly that a sea-officer had his choice of dressing handsomely, or being court-martialed and shot. “For,” said he, “the one hundred and forty-fourth regulation of the service reads, ‘All of his Majesty’s sea-officers are commanded to marry heiresses, and in these cases, the usual penalties for the abduction of heiresses are remitted’. Now, how can we abduct heiresses, or even get them to look at us, without fine clothes? Women, my boy, are caught by the eye alone—and I know ’em, by Gad!”
This trifling speech remained in my memory, and the day came when I recalled the idle talk of us two laughing midshipmen as prophetic.
We went together to a shop, where, under his direction and that of an oily-tongued shopman, I ordered one of the handsomest outfits any midshipman could possibly have, including two dozen of silk stockings, as my new-found friend informed me that every man on board his Majesty’s ships, from the admiral down to the jack-o’-the-dust, always wore silk stockings, because in the event of being struck by a ball or a pike or a cutlass in action, the danger from inflammation was much less with silk than with cotton or wool.
All went swimmingly, until it was time to pay for the things. Then, I acknowledge, I was at a loss. The shopman, suddenly changing his tone, cried out to my companion,—
“Mr. Giles Vernon, I remember the last reefer you brought here bought near a boatload and paid with the foresail, as you gentlemen of the sea call it. I will not be done this time, I assure you.”
At this, Giles Vernon promptly drew his sword, which did not disturb the shopman in the least, as I found out afterward; young gentlemen of Giles’ age and rank, in Portsmouth, drew their swords whenever they could not draw their purses. But I was very unhappy, not on Giles’ account, but on that of the poor shopman, whom I expected to see weltering in his blood. After a wordy war, Giles left the shop, taking me with him, and menacing the shopman, in case the purchases I had ordered did not come aboard the Ajax that night.
I thought it wise to suggest that I should now go aboard, as it was well on to three o’clock. Giles agreed with me. I had forgotten to ask him what ship he was attached to, but it suddenly occurred to me that he, too, might be in the Ajax, and I asked him. Imagine my delight when he said yes.
“But if the admiral does not behave himself better,” he added, “and if the captain does not ask me to dinner oftener than he has been doing lately, I shall prefer charges against both of them. I have been assured by the lords in admiralty that any request of mine will be regarded as an order by them, and I shall request that Admiral Hawkshaw and Captain Guilford be relieved of their commands.”