“Very sorry to lose you, Hanson,” said Lieutenant Pack; “you, I daresay will be glad to get afloat again, as there is a better chance of promotion than you would have on shore. We never know what may turn up. We may be at loggerheads with the French, or Russians, or some other people before your commission is over.”
Their guest saw Ned looking at him. He divined the boy’s thoughts.
“I wish that I had power to take you with me, Ned, but I have not, and I very much fear that the commander will have given away his appointment, and he has but one. However, when I accepted his proposal, I wrote saying that I had a young friend who wished to go to sea, and should be very glad if he would nominate him. I’ll let you know as soon as I get his answer, but I do not want unduly to arouse your expectations.”
Ned heartily thanked his friend for his good intentions towards him, as did his uncle.
“I knew you would serve him, Hanson, if you could, and if you are not successful, I’ll take the will for the deed,” said the old lieutenant, as he shook the hand of his guest, whom he accompanied to the door.
Two days afterwards a note came from Lieutenant Hanson, enclosing one from the commander of the “Ione,” regretting that he had already filled up his nomination, and had just heard that the Admiralty had already promised the only other vacancy.
“It can’t be helped, Ned,” said Lieutenant Pack, in a tone which showed how disheartened he was, although he did not intend to exhibit his feelings. “Cheer up, we must not be cast down, we’ll still hope that something will turn up. In the meantime we’ll try and be as happy as we can. Aunt Sally and Mary are not tired of you, nor am I, my boy. It’s only because I know that you wish to be doing something, and that you are right in your wishes, that I regret this delay.”
Mary, though sympathising with Ned, could not from her heart say that she was sorry. For the last two days she had been expecting to hear that he would have to go off immediately.
Next morning the postman was seen coming up to the door with an official-looking letter in his hand, and another of ordinary appearance; Ned ran out to receive them. The first was addressed to Lieutenant Pack, R.N. He opened it with far more agitation than he was wont to exhibit. His countenance brightened.
“Ned, my boy!” he exclaimed, “this letter has reference to you. My Lords do recognise my services—it is gratifying, very gratifying—and they have nominated you as a volunteer of the first class to Her Majesty’s ship ‘Ione,’ Commander Curtis, now fitting out at Portsmouth; the very ship of which Hanson is to be first lieutenant. This is fortunate. If he has not started, I’ll get him to take you to Portsmouth, and arrange your outfit. He’ll do it, I am sure, and will stand your friend if you do your duty; I know that you will do that, and become an honour to the service, as your father would have been had he lived.”