His only regret now was that he could no longer talk with Jack and Tom as he had been accustomed to do, though he hoped that he should still be able, without doing anything derogatory to his new position, to speak to them in a friendly way. Thinking highly of Jack as he did, he regretted more than ever that his former messmate could neither read nor write. He felt sure that he would, should he have an opportunity, do something to merit promotion.
Bill commenced his new duties with a spirit and alacrity which was remarked by his superior officers. He had narrowly observed the way the midshipmen conducted themselves, and was thus able to behave as well as the best of them. He was a little puzzled at first at dinner, but by seeing what others did he soon got over the slight difficulty he had to encounter.
Next day Mr Saltwell called him up as he was walking the quarter-deck.
“I have been making inquiries as to what can be done for your friend Pierre Turgot,” he said. “As you told me he was not willingly on board the privateer, I was able to state that in his favour, and I have obtained leave for him to be removed to a private house, where he can remain until he has recovered, and he will then, I hope, be allowed to return to France without waiting for an exchange of prisoners. Were he to be sent back with others, he would probably at once be compelled to serve afloat, and his great desire is, I understand, to return to his own family, to follow his former occupation of a fisherman.”
“Thank you, sir,” exclaimed Bill, “I cannot be too grateful to you for your kindness.”
“Don’t talk of that, my lad; if it hadn’t been for your courage and coolness I should not have been here. I am now going on shore, and wish you to accompany me. I have seen the widow of an old shipmate of mine who is willing to receive Pierre into her house, and to attend to him. We will have him removed at once, so that when we sail you will know he is placed under good care.”