The gentlemanly individual who addressed Somers wore the uniform of an English naval officer. By easy and gentle approaches, he proceeded to make himself very agreeable. He was lavish in his praise of the achievements of the "American navy," and was sure that no nation on the face of the globe had ever displayed such skill and energy in creating a war marine. Somers listened patiently to this eloquent and just tribute to the enterprise of his country; and if he had not suspected that the enthusiastic speaker was playing an assumed character, he would have ventured to suggest that the position of John Bull was rather equivocal; that a little less admiration, and a little more genuine sympathy, would be more acceptable.
"We sailors belong to the same fraternity all over the world," said the pretended Englishman. "There is something in sailors which draws them together. I never meet one without desiring to know him better. Allow me to present you my card, and beg the favor of yours in return."
He handed his card to Somers, who read upon it the name of "Lieutenant Wynkoop, R. N." It was elaborately engraved, and our officer began to have some doubts in regard to his new-found acquaintance, for the card could hardly have been got up since the interview of the preceding evening. This gentleman might not be Langdon, after all; but whether he was or not, it was proper to treat him with respect and consideration. Somers wrote his name on a blank card, and gave it to him.
"Thank you, Mr. Somers: here is my hand," said Lieutenant Wynkoop, when he had read the name. "I am happy to make your acquaintance."
Somers took the offered hand, and made a courteous reply, to the salutations of the other.
"May I beg the favor of your company to dinner with me in my private parlor to-day?" continued Mr. Wynkoop. "I have a couple of bottles of fine old sherry, which have twice made the voyage to India, sent to me by an esteemed American friend residing in this city."
"Thank you, Mr. Wynkoop. To the dinner I have not the slightest objection; to the wine I have; and I'm afraid you must reserve it for some one who will appreciate it more highly than I can. I never drink wine."
"Ah, indeed?" said the presumed representative of the royal navy, as he adjusted an eye-glass to his left eye, keeping it in position by contracting the muscles above and below the visual member, which gave a peculiar squint to his expression, very trying to the risibles of his auditor.
"I should be happy to dine with you, but I don't drink wine," repeated Somers, in good-natured but rather bluff tones, for he did not wish to be understood as apologizing for his total abstinence principles.
"I should be glad to meet you in my private parlor, say, at four o'clock, whether you drink wine or not, Mr. Somers."