Before Stone could remonstrate, the five minutes expired. Punctual Mrs. Pounce appeared again in the doorway.
“Well?” she inquired, “which is it to be—Cosway, or Stone?”
Cosway advanced as reckless as ever, and offered his arm.
“Now then, Fatsides,” he said, “come and be married!”
In five-and-twenty minutes more, Mrs. Pounce had become Mrs. Cosway; and the two officers were on their way to the ship.
The Second Epoch in Mr. Cosway’s Life.
Four years elapsed before the Albicore returned to the port from which she had sailed.
In that interval, the death of Cosway’s parents had taken place. The lawyer who had managed his affairs, during his absence from England, wrote to inform him that his inheritance from his late father’s “estate” was eight hundred a year. His mother only possessed a life interest in her fortune; she had left her jewels to her son, and that was all.
Cosway’s experience of the life of a naval officer on foreign stations (without political influence to hasten his promotion) had thoroughly disappointed him. He decided on retiring from the service when the ship was “paid off.” In the meantime, to the astonishment of his comrades, he seemed to be in no hurry to make use of the leave granted him to go on shore. The faithful Stone was the only man on board who knew that he was afraid of meeting his “wife.” This good friend volunteered to go to the inn, and make the necessary investigation with all needful prudence. “Four years is a long time, at her age,” he said. “Many things may happen in four years.”
An hour later, Stone returned to the ship, and sent a written message on board, addressed to his brother-officer, in these words: “Pack up your things at once, and join me on shore.”