The passenger who had had the box seat was standing near all the time. “He’ll find that there’s a greater man than he is on board, if he overstays his leave,” I heard him remark, with a laugh, as he entered the inn.
He was a slight active young man, with a pleasant countenance.
“That’s our second lieutenant, Mr Bryan,” said Edkins to me. “I saw his name on his portmanteau. He must have thought the boatswain a rum ’un.”
Captain Collyer’s tailor lived close at hand, so I went there at once, and he promised to have a suit ready for me by the following morning.
Edkins told me I was to dine with the captain at the George, and to sleep there. He proposed that we should walk about in the interval, and I employed part of the time in comforting Toby, persuading him to accompany the coxswain on board the frigate without me.
We had just got outside the Southsea-gate, when, passing a fruit-stall, I saw a little boy, while the old woman who kept the stall was looking another way, surreptitiously abstract several apples and make off with them. She turned at the moment and observed the deed.
“Come back, ye little thieving spalpeen,” she cried angrily, rising and making sail in chase. She was very stout, and filled out with petticoats on either side. The wind was very strong from the south-west, and, knowing that it is easier to sail with a fair wind than a foul, off darted the little boy before it over Southsea common. He, however, compared to the old lady, was like a brig to a seventy-four, with the studding sails set alow and aloft, and she, with her wide expanded figure propelled onward, was rapidly gaining on the apple-loving culprit. She would have caught him to a certainty. Toby and I and Edkins ran on to see the result. An old admiral (so Edkins told me he was), taking his constitutional, stopped, highly enjoying the fun. He observed the cause of old Molly’s rapid progress. His sympathies were excited for the urchin.
“Try her on a wind, boy; try her on a wind,” he shouted, giving way to his feelings in loud laughter.
The boy took the hint, and coming about darted off to the westward. Molly attempted to follow, but her breath failed her; the hitherto favouring gale blew her back, and with anathemas on the head of the culprit, she gave up the pursuit, and returned panting to her stall.
“There’s the price of your apples, Molly,” said the admiral, as he passed, handing her a sixpence. “You have gained it for the fun you have afforded me.”