“Simply that he has had nothing to say, or has had no time to write, or if he has written, his letter may have gone astray,” answered the lieutenant. “You must exercise patience, my young friend; you’ll find plenty of that required in this world.”
Ned returned home not much wiser than he went, but a brisk walk and the fresh air revived his spirits. Next morning’s post brought the looked-for letter, addressed to Miss Sarah Pack. She hurriedly opened it, while the young people looked eagerly on, watching her countenance. That, however, betrayed no satisfaction. The lieutenant’s handwriting required time to decipher, though the characters were bold enough and covered a large sheet of paper.
“Dear Sally,” it began, “I have been to the Admiralty and seen the First Lord, having reached this big city, and lost my way half-a-dozen times in it, four days after I left you. We had calms and light winds the whole distance to Portsmouth. His lordship received me with a profound bow, as if I had been an admiral, listened attentively to all I had to say, and I made up my mind that he was the politest gentleman I had ever met, and fully intended to grant my request. When I had finished, he glanced his eye down a long list, which he held up so that I could see it, remarking that there were a number of promising lads who desired to enter the service, but that he much feared he should be compelled to disappoint them. My claims were great, and he was surprised that his predecessors had not acknowledged them by promoting me; that he had no doubt my brother-in-law would have been an ornament to the service had he lived; that I ought to have sent his son’s name in long ago, and that he would take the matter into consideration. He desired me to leave my address, advising me not to remain in town, as it might be some time before I was likely to hear from him; he then politely bowed me out of the room. Whether or not anything will come of it is more than I can divine. In my humble opinion my visit to London will prove bootless; it can’t be helped, Sally, so cheer up, and don’t let Ned get out of spirits. I am going to call on two or three shipowners, of whom Jenkins, who knows more of London than I do, has told me, for if Ned cannot get into the navy, he must make up his mind to enter the merchant service. I’ll write more when I have more to communicate, so, with love to the young ones, I remain, your affectionate brother, John Pack.”
Aunt Sally had to confess to herself that the letter was not encouraging, still she did her best to follow her brother’s advice. “Perhaps the First Lord doesn’t like to make promises, but he must be a good man, or he would not hold the position he does, and I dare say he’ll do his best. We may have a letter even before your uncle comes back, saying that you are appointed to a ship. It can’t be so difficult a thing to make a midshipman. Had your uncle, however, asked to be promoted, I should not have been surprised had he been refused. It is very kind of the First Lord to receive him so well and to listen to all he had to say; we should not expect too much from great men.”
Miss Sally ran on in the same strain for some time, but all she said failed to impart much confidence to poor Ned; still his uncle might succeed in getting him on board a merchant vessel, and like a prudent lad, he was ready for whatever might turn up. Next morning Ned eagerly looked out for the postman, but no letter arrived; another and another day passed by. It was too evident that the lieutenant had no news to communicate.
Some days after, just as evening was approaching, a post chaise was seen slowly descending the winding road which led down to the cottage. Miss Sally, followed by Ned, Mary, and Tom, hurried out. Ned darted forward to let down the steps, while Tom opened the door. The lieutenant, leaning on the black’s shoulder, stepped out. Though he smiled at seeing those he loved, his countenance showed that he had no good news to communicate.
“I’ll tell you all about it when I have refreshed the inner man,” he said, as, after paying the driver and telling Tom to look after him, he stumped into the house; “I am at present somewhat sharp set. It is several hours since I took anything on board in the shape of provisions, and my jaw tackles want greasing before I can make them work.”
Aunt Sally and Mary quickly got supper ready, and the lieutenant having said grace, took his seat at the table. Having eaten a few mouthfuls he looked mere cheerful than he had hitherto done. His sister and the young people were longing to hear what he had got to say.
“I told you I did not expect much from my visit to London, but it is wrong to allow ourselves to be cast down because things don’t go as smoothly as we could wish,” he at length observed. “I wrote you about my visit to the Admiralty; well, after that, believing that their lordships were not likely to do much for me, I called on three shipowners to whom Jenkins had given me introductions. They were civil enough, but all gave me the same sort of answer. They had numerous applications to receive on board their ships youngsters whose friends could pay handsome premiums, and in duty to themselves they were compelled to accept such in preference to others, willing as they were to attend to the recommendation of Lieutenant Jenkins. When I offered to take command of one of their ships, they replied, that as I had been some time on shore I might have grown rusty, and that they were obliged to employ officers brought up in their own service, though they could not doubt my abilities, and were duly grateful for the offer I had made them. They would consider the matter, and let me know the result to which they might come, but no promise could be made on the subject.”
Miss Sally looked greatly relieved when she heard that it was not likely her brother would go to sea, anxious as she was that poor Ned should obtain the object of his wishes.