The old mate was going to help himself to another glass, but he put the bottle away from him with resolution. I had observed that he often took more than anybody else in the mess; but after that, whenever I saw him doing so, I had only to mention his wife, and he instantly stopped. From this account he had given of himself I liked him much better than ever.
I one day asked Mr Bryan, who knew his wife, about her, and he told me that she was a very superior young lady, and that he could not overpraise her.
Of all my shipmates, Grey seemed most pleased at having me back again, and he assured me that had he been able to swim he would have jumped after me, and I believe that he would have done so. I promised on the first opportunity to teach him to swim. People are surprised that so many sailors cannot swim, but the truth is, that when once they get to sea, they often have fewer opportunities of learning than have people living on shore. In southern climates some captains, when it is calm, allow the men to go overboard; but in northern latitudes they cannot do this, and many captains do not trouble themselves about the matter. My advice therefore is, that all boys should team to swim before they come to sea, and to swim in their clothes.
Next to Grey, I believe Mr Johnson was most satisfied that I was not drowned.
“I had written an account of what had happened to your disconsolate parents, and had taken an opportunity of praising you as you deserved; but as you are alive, I’ll put it by, it will serve for another occasion,” he observed.
I thanked him, and begged him to give me the letter, which, after some persuasion, he did. I enclosed it to my sisters, assuring them that it was written under an erroneous impression that I was no longer a denizen of this world, and begged, them not to be at all alarmed, as I was well and merry as ever:
“Sir,—Your son and I, though he was only a midshipman,—I am boatswain of this ship—were, I may say, friends and companions; and therefore I take up my pen to tell you the sad news, that he and boy Bluff went overboard together this evening, and were lost, though we didn’t fail to look for them. It may be a consolation to you to know that they always did their duty, which wasn’t much, nor very well done, nor of any use to anybody, but that was no fault of theirs, seeing that they didn’t know better. Then you’ll not fail to remember that there’s no longer any chance of your son being hung, which has been the fate of many a pretty man, either by mistake or because he deserved it, and that must be a comfort to you. I’ve nothing more to say at present.
“From your obedient servant,
“Jonathan Johnson,
“Boatswain of His British Majesty’s frigate Doris.”
I had hopes that the letter would afford infinite satisfaction to my home circle.
We ran back to Plymouth with our prisoners, and then receiving sealed orders, sailed for the westward. On the captain opening his orders we found that we were bound for the North American and West India Station.
One day, as Mr Johnson seemed in an especially good humour, I got Grey to come, and we begged hard that he would go on with his history.