"Brave Old Salt," as Somers always called him, was our young officer's beau-ideal of a naval commander. "Brave" he certainly was, and "Old Salt," to a sailor, means something more than a long experience at sea. It conveys to the nautical mind an idea of skill which no "lubber" can possess. It was bravery, seamanship, and those peculiar qualities which an "old salt" possesses, that made him great on the quarter deck, in command of a squadron.
Somers's admiration for the commander-in-chief of the fleet off Mobile Bay was of no recent origin. Since he had first known him as "Flag Officer Farragut" at Ship Island, before the grade of Rear and Vice Admiral had been created in our navy, he had reverenced him as a superior man, and looked up to him with an almost superstitious awe. He could hardly realize that they were both of the same earthly mould, with the like human hopes and aspirations. Though, for a young man of his age, Somers regarded his rank of master as very high, it did not permit him to abate one jot or tittle of the distance which lay between him and the admiral. He did not feel any better entitled to tread the same deck with the glorious old hero, as a master, than he did as an ordinary seaman.
Somers returned to active duty as soon as he had reported to the first lieutenant of the Chatauqua, and he had the deck in the first dog watch on the day of his arrival. During the afternoon watch he had had plenty of time to report the incidents of his cruise in the Ben Nevis. Mr. Hackleford had immediately communicated to the captain the facts concerning Pillgrim's letter, and the recreant lieutenant's papers had been carefully overhauled in search of anything which would shed a ray of light upon the statements of the strange letter.
The only document which looked at all hopeful was a note written in cipher, to which there was no key among the papers. If the communication had been in Chinese or Chaldaic, there might have been a chance of unravelling it; as it was, the note was written in arbitrary characters, which were as cabalistic and unintelligible as the Egyptian hieroglyphics. Somers was annoyed and discomfited, for he had confidently reckoned upon finding some letter which contained a hint to guide him. There was nothing but this note in cipher.
To add to his chagrin, Mr. Hackleford was utterly sceptical in regard to Pillgrim's letter—did not believe the first word of it—called it "gas," and declared that it would be stupid and childish to pay the least attention to the document. Captain Cascabel fully concurred with him in this opinion, and both of them laughed at Somers for bestowing a second thought upon it.
"Nonsense! Mr. Somers!" exclaimed the first lieutenant. "There isn't a single scintillation of truth in the story. If there were even a glimmering of reality in the thing, I would look into it."
"But Mr. Pillgrim told me some truth in regard to the Ben Nevis," argued Somers.
"That is the best reason in the world for believing he has not done so in this instance," said Mr. Hackleford.
"I suppose I must give up the idea, then."
"You must, indeed. If you don't, I am afraid your reputation for common sense and good judgment will suffer."