“Not a bit of it,” was the rejoinder. “Let me tell you, that you’ll soon find that your slack captains are the worst to sail with. They let every one do as they like till all hands begin to take liberties, and the hard work falls on the most willing, and they then suddenly haul up, and there is six times more flogging and desertion than in a strict ship, and she soon becomes a regular hell afloat. I hate your honey-mouthed, easy-going skippers, who simper out, ‘Please, my good men, have the goodness to brace round the foreyard when the ship’s taken aback.’ No, no—give me a man who knows how to command men. Depend on it. Duff, you’ll like Captain Fleetwood before you’ve sailed with him a week, if you are worth your salt, mind you, though.”
By this time they had reached an angle of the ramparts, where, jumping up on the banquette, they could enjoy a good view up the harbour.
“There,” exclaimed Raby, pointing to a fine man-of-war brig, which lay at the mouth of the dockyard creek just off Fort Saint Angelo. “Isn’t the Ione a beauty now?”
“Yes, she is, indeed; and a fine craft, I dare say, in every respect,” answered Duff.
“Oh, there’s nothing can come up to her!” exclaimed Jack Raby, warming with his subject. “She’ll sail round almost any ship in the fleet; and I only wish, with Charlie Fleetwood to command her, and her present crew, we could fall in with an enemy twice her size. We should thrash him, I’d stake my existence on it, and bring him in as a prize before long.”
“Glorious!” exclaimed the other youth, catching the enthusiasm of his companion. “It’s a pity the war is over. I’m afraid there’s no chance of any fun of that sort.”
“Oh, you don’t know—something may come out of this row between the Greeks and the Turks; and we, at all events, shall have some amusement in looking after them, and cruising up the Archipelago—where I hear we are to be sent, as soon as we are ready for sea.”
Jack Raby was the speaker.
“How soon will that be?” asked his companion. “We might sail to-morrow, I should have thought.”
“Why, you see, there are more reasons than one for our not being ready,” observed Jack. “And I suspect the skipper himself is in no hurry to get away; for, don’t you go and talk about it now, but the fact is, he has been and fallen desperately in love with a sweetly pretty girl, who, from what I can observe, likes him not a little in return, so he’ll be very sorry to get out of sight of her smiles; at least, I know that I should be loath to be beyond hailing distance if I were in his place. Let me give you a piece of advice, Duff; don’t go and fall in love. It is a very inconvenient condition for a midshipman to be in, let me tell you.”