Below was a cabin, appropriated wholly to his use, where he could live as luxuriously as a lord. He had no watch to keep, no work to perform. As he contemplated his position, he was absolutely amazed. He had hoped, but not expected, to reach this pinnacle of his ambition. But there was another side to the question. A fearful responsibility was imposed upon him. The lives of his hundred men depended upon him. This valuable steamer, with her armament and stores, was intrusted to him, and he must account for all loss or waste on board of her. More than this, the honor of the flag under which he sailed had been committed to him. If he lost his ship by bad management, it would be his ruin. If he permitted the ensign which floated at his peak to be disgraced, it would be infamy to him.
In the public service he might have occasion to run into foreign ports, or to visit neutral waters. His want of knowledge, or his want of judgment, might entangle his country in perplexing broils with other nations, or even involve her in another war. As he thought of his delicate and difficult duties, he felt like shrinking from them, and avoiding the immense responsibility. Being "captain," in this view, was quite a different thing from what he had anticipated.
With a smile he recalled his own reflections, when, as an ordinary seaman, he had observed the captain of his ship walk the deck. Then he had thought the commander had the easiest and jolliest time of all the men on board, with his fine cabin all to himself, and no watch to keep, and apparently no work to do. From his present stand-point, the captain occupied the most difficult and trying place in the ship, and he almost wished he had declined the command offered to him.
Outside the bay, the sealed orders were opened. As he had anticipated, he was ordered to cruise in search of rebel steamers, whose depredations on the coast had severely tried the patience of the nation. He was directed to proceed first to the eastward, and then to use his own judgment. There were several rebel privateers, or naval vessels belonging to the Confederacy. The Tallahassee, the Chickamauga, and the Olustee had been the most mischievous; and it was believed that there were others at Wilmington, and the neutral ports of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and the West Indies.
Having learned where he was to go, and what he was to do, he went on deck and gave his orders to Mr. Gamage, the first lieutenant. The Firefly was headed to the north-east, and all sail set to help her along. Before Somers went below, she logged fifteen knots, which was splendid for a ship with her bunkers full of coal.
In the evening the young commander invited Tom Longstone to visit his cabin. The veteran was in his happiest frame of mind. All the aspirations of his earlier years seemed to have been rekindled in his soul; he had abandoned the use of slang, and conducted himself so much like a gentleman, outwardly, that no one could have suspected he had spent thirty odd years of his life before the mast; but as he had always been a gentleman at heart, it was comparatively easy for him to assume the externals of his new profession.
The old man had donned a new uniform; and though his hair and beard were iron gray, he looked as "spruce" as a dry goods clerk. No change of dress, however, could make him any other than an "old salt." He walked with a rolling gait, and had all the airs of a veteran seaman. It is true that in the transposition from the forecastle to the ward-room he had discarded "pigtail," and confined himself to "fine cut," taken from a silver box; but he still used as much of the "weed" as an old sheet-anchor man.
"You sent for me, Captain Somers," said the second lieutenant, as he touched his fore-top, from the force of habit.
"Sit down, Mr. Longstone," said the captain. "It is one of the blessings of my present position that I have a place to sit down and talk with old friends. I suppose you know we are bound to the eastward in search of rebel privateers."
"So Mr. Gamage told me, sir. I hope we shall catch some of them."