I am not going to weary you with all the details which had to be thought out and prepared, but I will just say this. There is no possible similarity between preparing for a landing party or a sham fight during manoeuvres and preparing for the real thing. When you are getting ready for the first, someone comes along: "The Gunnery Lieutenant's compliments, sir, and he doesn't want the small-arm magazines opened this morning". "All right; very well," you say; so no ammunition is passed round, you take it for granted that water-bottles are filled, and a hundred-and-one other things which are essential in active warfare. Besides—and this is more serious than everything else put together—for one you prepare as for a football match, for the other you cannot help realizing that the lives of the men actually standing there in front of you, cheerfully getting ready, are to be dependent upon your judgment. If other people who have the same responsibility are as keenly conscious of their own lack of skill and experience as I was that day, I am very sorry for them.
By six o'clock in the evening everything that Whitmore and I could think of had been prepared. The men had all seen Hoffman's rough sketch, and all thoroughly understood what was to be done. They were thoroughly happy too, and the Skipper sending up to tell me that he wanted to say a few words to them, I fell them "in" on the quarterdeck. There was very little light, though enough to see his great wrinkled red face.
"Landing party present, sir," I reported, calling them to attention.
"Umph!" he said, speaking in his gruffest tones. "You went in last night, most of you, and blew a hole as big as a house in that tramp. You know why you did that, and got wet skins doing it—to stop 'em taking away the little lass, now I've cornered 'em. To-night the Commander is going to take you in to blow up that gun which had the confounded cheek to fire on the Vigilant the other day, and killed two men aboard the Goldfinch this forenoon.
"Umph!" he growled. "Last time the Royal Marine detachment went ashore there was a good deal of leave breakin'. I hope you'll all come back this time." (The men guffawed and chuckled.)
"Captain Marshall," he roared, and pointed to one of the front-rank men, "have that man's hair cut before he leaves the ship. He's a disgrace to the detachment;" and he went round and inspected them all.
"Well! Umph! Good luck to you!" and he looked them up and down again, growled, and went below, the marines all grinning with amusement.
I dismissed them.
"What a grand chap the old man is!" Marshall said. "No wonder the men would do anything for him. Hasn't he a grand 'few words'?"
The rain had ceased, and the night showed signs of being clear though cold, and the breeze was not strong enough to make boat work difficult.