The Grateful Indian, and Other Stories

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“A distinguished man,” observed General Verner, when the admiral rejoined him.

“A right noble and brave man,” said the admiral, but made no further remark.

The stranger was in the drawing-room when Miss Verner entered, and was soon engaged in an animated conversation with her. She thought him somewhat old-fashioned in his phraseology, perhaps, and mode of pronunciation, but she had so frequently heard officers of high rank speak in the same way, that she was not surprised, and as he had seen a great deal of the world, and described well what he had seen, she was much interested. As she listened, she felt her interest increase, and became insensibly drawn towards the old gentleman. As there were many married ladies present, she was led out among the first, and so she did not see when he left the room, which might have given her an idea as to his rank, but she found herself sitting next to him at dinner. Her father was opposite, and appeared to be much interested in his conversation. According to the good old custom, the admiral drank wine round with all his guests. “Mr Ripley, will you take wine?” he said, addressing her companion in his kind friendly tone. She started, and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She had not recovered from her confusion before the ceremony of wine-taking was over, and the old gentleman again addressed her. Could he be the father of Pearce? She had always understood that his father was a boatswain, and this old gentleman could not be that, or he would scarcely have been dining at the admiral’s table. Her father would make the inquiry probably of the admiral; if not, she must try to muster courage to do so. In the mean time she would ask her companion if he knew Sir Pearce Ripley. In a low and somewhat trembling voice she put the question.

“Indeed I do, young lady, and am proud to own him as my son,” answered the old seaman, fixing his clear grey eyes on her, as if he would read her heart. “I have a hope that you know him too, and that no two people love him better in the world,” he added in a whisper.

Alice felt her cheeks glow, and yet she was not annoyed. “Indeed you are right,” she said, in a low tone, which she hoped no one else would hear, for several people were speaking loudly, and there was a clatter of knives and forks.

“He will be in England again soon to refit, for he has allowed his frigate very little rest since he commanded her,” observed the old gentleman. “He, I hope too, will then get a spell at home, for since he went to sea at ten years of age, he has never once been ten days on shore at a time, ay, I may say, not a month altogether.”

Alice whispered her hope that he would remain on shore. After retiring to the drawing-room she looked anxiously for the arrival of the gentlemen. Her father and Mr Ripley entered together. The general soon came and sat down by her.

“A very agreeable old naval officer that is we’ve been talking to,” he remarked; “I did not catch his name, but the admiral tells me that he is a master in the service.”

Alice was pleased to hear this, but much puzzled. She managed to speak to the admiral when no one was near. He put on a quizzical look. “Now, young lady, if you had been inquiring about Sir Pearce Ripley, his son, I should not have been surprised,” he answered. “The fact is, my friend Ripley became a master late in life. He had served in the lower grades of the profession, and if the rules of the service had allowed it, he should have been made a post-captain. I cannot tell you all the brave things he has done. When in charge of a prize, he fought a most gallant action; he prevented his ship’s company from joining the mutineers at the Nore. On two several occasions, he saved the ship from being wrecked, not to mention his conduct on the first of June, and on numerous previous occasions. I placed his son on the quarterdeck, predicting that he would be an honour to the service, and so he is, and I am proud of him.”

While the admiral was speaking, Alice was considering whether she should confide her case to him, and beg him to intercede with her father, or rather to speak to him of Mr Ripley in a way which might overcome his prejudices. She almost gasped for breath in her agitation, but her resolution was taken, and without loss of time she hurriedly told him of her engagement to Sir Pearce Ripley.