Chapter Twenty Seven.
A visit to France.
“What is the matter?” asked the commander in a kind tone.
“I had a man on board who had been with me ever since I went to sea,” I answered. “We had been through dangers of all sorts together, and he would have given his life to save mine.”
“Very sorry, very sorry to hear it,” he said in a kind tone. “Come into my cabin; I’ll give you a shake-down, and you must try to go to sleep till the morning.”
I gladly accepted his offer. The steward soon made up a bed for me; but after the dreadful event of the night, I found it more difficult than I had ever done before to close my eyes. I kept thinking of poor Larry, and considering if I could have done anything to save him. I blamed myself for turning in, when I saw the half-drunken condition of the skipper. His crew probably were in the same state, and had neglected to keep a look-out. I at last, however, went to sleep, and didn’t awake till the steward called me, to say that breakfast would be on the table presently.
I jumped up, and, having had a wash, went on deck. The officers of the brig received me very kindly, and congratulated me on my escape. Presently a master’s mate came from below, and looked hard at me for a moment, and then, stretching out his hand, exclaimed, “Why, Paddy, my boy! is it yourself? I’m delighted to see you.”
I recognised Sinnet, my old messmate on board the Liffy.
“Why, I thought you were a lieutenant long ago,” he said, after we had had a little conversation. “For my part I have given up all hopes of promotion, unless we get another war with the French, or Dutch, or Spaniards; but there’s no use in sighing, so I take things as they come.”