“Mr Merry, I hope that we shall not part just yet,” he said with great feeling, taking my hand. “The ship is to be left in charge of the gunner, and I have obtained leave to go up to London to visit my wife, and for other reasons. Now it will afford me great pleasure if you and Mr Grey will make my house your resting-place on your way home, or rather I should say my wife’s house, for, as I told you, she is a lady of independent fortune. Indeed, Mr Merry, friends as we are afloat, I know the customs of the service too well to ask you, a quarter-deck officer, to my house under other circumstances.”
“Don’t speak of that, Mr Johnson,” said I, feeling sure that he would be pleased if I accepted his invitation, and wishing perhaps a little to gratify my own curiosity. “I shall be delighted to go to your house. You forget how much I am indebted to you for having several times saved my life, and that puts us on an equality on shore, if not on board; besides, remember I know all about your wife, and I do not think that I ever returned you the letter you gave me for her when you thought you might be killed.”
“All right, Mr Merry; don’t let’s have any protestations; we’re brother seamen and shipmates, and thoroughly appreciate each other, though some of the incidents I mentioned in my wonderful narratives might shake some people’s confidence in my veracity,” he remarked, again grasping my hand.
“However, that is neither here nor there. You understand me, and that’s enough. If you and Mr Grey like, we will take a post-chaise between us, and post up to town. I am impatient to be at home, and you will have no objection, I dare say, to whisk as fast along the road as four posters can make the wheels go round.”
Grey and I willingly agreed to Mr Johnson’s proposition. Spellman was not asked, and had he been, we concluded that he would not have accepted the invitation, so we said nothing about it to him. We had a jolly paying-off dinner, with the usual speeches, and compliments, and toasts. After the health of the King was drunk and all the Royal family, and other important personages, Mr Bryan got up and said—
“Now, gentlemen, I have to propose the health of a shipmate, of, I may say, a brother officer of mine, Lieutenant Perigal, with three times three.” Saying this, he pulled out of his pocket one of those long official documents, such as are well-known to emanate from my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty.
“Come at last! hurrah!—well, it will make my dear wife happy,” were the first words the delighted Perigal could utter. I honoured him for them. Faithful and honest, he was a true sailor. I afterwards had the pleasure of meeting his young wife, and she was worthy of all the eulogiums he had delighted when absent to pass on her. He had picked up a fair share of prize-money, otherwise his half-pay of ninety pounds a year was not much on which to support a wife and to keep up the appearance of a gentleman. I was in hopes that Mr Bryan would himself have been promoted, but he was not. Mr Fitzgerald, however, very shortly afterwards received his commission as a commander. Bobus declared that it was because he had stood on his head before the King and made him laugh, or because he had amused some other great person by one of his wonderful stories. I met him one day, and congratulated him.
“Ah, merit, merit does everything, Mr Merry, next to zeal,” he exclaimed, with a chuckle.
“You always were a zealous officer; and now I think of it, you are the very midshipman who took off his trousers and blew into them, when no other sail or wind was to be had for love or money, and the captain was in a hurry to get your boat back. I’ve often told the story since of you, and set it all down to your zeal.”
“Well, let this be your consolation, if others do not recognise your services, I will when I am one of the Lords of the Admiralty.”