“Your Royal Highness, he is dead,” was the answer.
“Oh! is he? poor fellow! Then, how is your mother?”
“Your Royal Highness, she is dead also.”
“Oh, is she? Then which died first?” asked the Duke in a tone which made it very difficult even for the best bred of the company to refrain from laughing.
Without further adventure the Doris and her prize arrived safely in Plymouth Sound.
We waited anxiously for the report of the dockyard authorities, who at length gave it as their opinion that the frigate had got so knocked about that she must go into dock to be repaired. Everybody was in a great hurry to get leave. In consequence of our having been wounded, Grey and Spellman and I obtained it at once, and I invited them to pay my family a visit in Leicestershire on their way to their own homes. I got leave also for Toby Bluff to accompany us.
“I’ll spare him to you. Mr Merry,” said Mr Johnson. “Take care you bring him back, for he will one day do credit to the service in his humble path, just as I flatter myself I do credit to it in mine, and I hope that you, Mr Merry, will one day in yours. You’ve made a very good beginning, and you may tell your friends that the boatswain of the ship says so. Let them understand that the boatswain is a very important personage, and they will be satisfied that you are a rising young officer.” We got a sufficient amount of prize-money advanced to enable us to perform our journey, which we did partly in post-chaises. The latter mode of travelling we agreed was by far the pleasantest. After we left the coach we went along very steadily for a stage or so.
“This is slow work,” observed Spellman. “I vote we make more sail.” Looking out of the window he sang out, “Heave ahead, my hearty. There’s a crown for you if you make the craft walk along.”
Although the post-boy did not understand my messmate’s language he did our gestures and the mention of the crown, and on we went at a great rate, turning up the dust as the gallant Doris was wont to do the brine, and making the stones fly in every direction.
At last one of the postillions, who entered into our humour, proposed getting a horn for us. We eagerly accepted the offer, and he said he would purchase one from the guard of a coach, who lived near the road a little way on. It was rather battered, and we paid a high price, but when we found that Toby could blow it effectually, we would have had it at any price.