“A field of water, which the ship has to plough,” said another, who set up for a wit.
There was no end to their remarks.
“Never mind, Nugent,” remarked Owen. “We’ll soon get you out of those antiquated notions.”
He was as good as his word, and I soon learned to look at a life at sea in a very different light to what I had done when I determined to follow it. Still, pride made me resolve to stick to it, and when I wrote home, to speak as if I were thoroughly satisfied with my choice.
Two days after I joined, the frigate sailed for the Mediterranean. Owen did his best to gain my confidence, and so far succeeded, that, being placed in his watch, I was his constant companion. I was at first shocked at his opinions and open acknowledgment of his very lax morals, and though in the latter respect he might not have been much worse in reality than others in the mess, I observed that by degrees some of them, especially Pearson, began rather to tight shy of him. Often I remarked an expression on his countenance which was most disagreeable, and two or three times as I looked at him the idea came across my mind that I had seen him before. Once, and only once, I thought he must be the person who had so frightened me years before in the park, but I dismissed the idea as preposterous, as that person was a great deal older than Owen, who, besides, seemed too careless, easy-going a fellow to do anything of that sort. In the Mediterranean, that most delightful of stations to a man who has plenty of money in his pocket, we visited a number of places. Whenever Owen went on shore he took me with him, and did not scruple to make use of my purse, in order, as he said, that he might initiate me into the mysteries of life.
Those who are acquainted with what a midshipman’s life on shore often is, may easily conceive the description of scenes into which he introduced me. With the wariness of the serpent, however, he took care not too early to shock my moral sense, and therefore only gave me glimpses of the scenes to which I have alluded. We were at Naples for some months. As my father had begged the captain, whenever duty would permit, to give me every opportunity of seeing all that was to be seen in the places we visited, I constantly got leave to go on shore, and being under charge of so old and staid a Mentor as Owen, I was allowed to remain away from the ship for several days together. Night after night we went to the opera; then to some billiard or gambling-rooms; and finally repaired to some place to sup, when Owen took care to order the richest viands and the best wines at my expense. He drank hard, though he did not get drunk exactly, and he encouraged me to drink, telling me that it was a manly thing, and that after a little time I should be able to drink as much as he could with impunity. One day I returned on board feeling and looking, I doubt not, very ill. While Owen was on deck, Pearson, who was always very kind to me, took me aside, and asked me, in the gentlest and most friendly way, how I spent my time on shore. I told him exactly how I had been employed.
“Take my advice, youngster, and follow a better leader than Owen seems to be, or rather act as your own sense of right and duty would prompt you,” he said, in a kind tone. “I most heartily wish you well, and admire the spirit which prompted you to come to sea, when you might have lived luxuriously on shore. You have everything before you which can make life pleasant, but if you follow the course into which it is very clear Owen intends to lead you, your life itself will be shortened, and you will be incapacitated from enjoying the advantages you possess.”
I felt the truth of what Pearson had said, and told him that I would follow his advice. The next day I was engaged to go on shore with Owen. I did not choose to refuse to go, but resolved to be cautious how I complied with any of his proposals. He had told the captain that we were to ride out to visit some spot of interest in the neighbourhood, and I had fully intended going. When we got on shore, he declared that he had hurt his leg, and could not ride, and proposed resorting to a billiard-room. To this, as I did not know what to do with myself alone, I did not object, but after playing for some time, he declared that it was very slow work, and suggested that we should go to a gambling-house near at hand, where we might obtain liquor and refreshments of all sorts. I fortunately knew the character of the place, and remembering my promise to Pearson, positively refused to accompany him. He looked astonished at first, and then set to work to overcome my scruples. I was firm, and thank Heaven I was, for if a man breaks a newly-formed resolution to act rightly, he is very apt to go back to his old courses, and to continue in them more recklessly than before.
“If you don’t want to lose your money don’t play high stakes, and if you are afraid of getting drunk, I’ll watch that you don’t take more than is good for you,” he whispered to me. “But don’t sit there like a booby.”
“I should be one if I followed your suggestions, for I have no taste for either gambling or drinking, and I do not want to get it,” I answered, firmly. “Once for all, I will not go.”