“Och, yes, I was always celebrated for my zeal,” he answered. “There’s nothing like zeal, Mr Merry. When my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty think fit to promote one of their own nephews over the heads of any lot of us poor fellows who don’t happen to have any interest in high quarters, it’s always on account of zeal—they are such very zealous and promising young men. They don’t say what they promise. I could never learn that. I once posed the First Lord by simply asking the question. I went up just to ask for my promotion—for there’s nothing like asking, you know, youngsters. The First Lord received me with wonderful civility. He took me for another Fitzgerald, and I was fool enough to tell him which I really was, or I believe he would have handed me out my commission and appointment to a fine brig I had in my eye, there and then. I saw by his change of countenance that I had made a mistake, and, as I was in for it, I determined not to be abashed. With the blandest of smiles he remarked, ‘Undoubtedly, Mr Fitzgerald, I will keep you in sight, but I have on my list so many zealous and promising young officers, that I fear you will have some time to wait.’ His cold eye told me he’d do nothing for me, so says I, ‘My lord, I should just like to have an example of this zeal, that I may learn to imitate it; but as to promises, faith, my lord, I should like to see any man who can beat me at making them.’ I put on a face as I spoke, and he couldn’t help laughing, but he told me, when I made my bow, that I might be sure he wouldn’t forget me. Whether he has or has not, I can’t say; but here am I, a descendant of Brian Boroo, and I don’t know how many kings and queens of ould Ireland besides, nothing but a humble lieutenant, standing with my breeches off, and endeavouring to fill this epitome of a boat’s sail with all the wind in my mortal body. I must stop talking, though, youngsters; it’s setting you a bad example,” and he began to puff away again.
We were now drawing so near the frigate that I felt sure, if any glasses were turned towards us, his extraordinary condition could be seen. I was anxious to prevent his getting into disgrace, so I asked—
“Wouldn’t it be better, sir, if you were to put on your breeches, and let the men pull up alongside in proper style?”
“What, youngster, and lose this magnificent opportunity of exhibiting my zeal?” he exclaimed, indignantly. “I shall request the captain to write an official letter to the Admiralty, that a proper record may be made of it.”
“But Grey and I will bear witness to the truth of your statement, if you think fit, to-morrow, to make a report of the proceeding,” I observed. “You must allow, sir, that officers do not generally come alongside a ship with their breeches off, though of course it is very laudable to make use of them as a boat’s sail, or in any other way, for the good of the service; but, if you have any enemies, a wrong construction may be put on the matter.”
He did not appear to be listening to what I was saying, but continued puffing out his cheeks and blowing as before. As I was steering, I told Grey to look through the telescope we had with us at the ship.
“I see several glasses turned this way,” he answered, “and there are numbers of men in the rigging.”
I made no remark, but Mr Fitzgerald soon afterwards lowered the oar, and, without saying anything, quietly put on his breeches. We were soon alongside; the boat was hoisted in, and a light breeze having sprung up, which had long been seen coming, all sail was made in chase of a vessel to the eastward.
Mr Fitzgerald then made his report.
“You seemed to be carrying some sail,” observed the captain. “You had but little wind, though, to make it of use.”