“What we shall do under such a commanding officer is more than I can tell,” said the senior captain. “I am sorry, Captain Rogers, that you have had so bad a specimen of a military man on board your ship. Were any superior officers on shore, we should at once bring him to a court-martial, and you would be under the necessity of carrying him and his belongings back. As it is, in the face of an enemy, we cannot refuse to serve under him, and we can only hope that his wife and daughters will cling round his neck and keep him at head-quarters, or that a shot may disable him from active service. A very little thing would, I suspect, do that. We wish him no further ill.”
“I am very willing to oblige you in everything,” said Jack, laughing; “but I would rather not have the pleasure of carrying him and his ‘woman kind,’ as he calls them, back to Simon’s Bay.”
The boats were busily employed in landing the soldiers, who bade an affectionate farewell to their blue-jacket brethren. Most of the officers had landed; the major and his family still remained. He appeared to have arrived at the conclusion that he did not stand very well with those under his command. Had the ship gone down, he would have saved his life, and there would have been nobody to complain; but as it was, and there had been no real danger, he found himself placed in a very awkward position. Of this he was well aware. He came up to Jack.
“Age and infirmity have told upon me lately, Captain Rogers,” he said. “Mrs Bubsby and my daughters are of the same opinion. My charming daughter Angelica is very anxious to go back with you to Cape Town. I have, therefore, come to the conclusion of resigning my command and returning home, whatever may be the consequences.”
“Are you speaking seriously?” asked Jack. “Have you considered the consequences of such an act? I should have thought that you would have been anxious to retrieve your character by showing your courage the first time you had an opportunity of meeting the enemy.”
“My courage!” exclaimed the major; “who ever doubted that? It was not my courage gave way; it was the stout arms and affectionate embraces of my beloved daughters which kept me back in the boat when they thought that the ship was going down. My courage and honour are as bright as they ever were in my best days, when I was known as a perfect fire-eater. Do you know what I did in the Crimea—how gallantly I behaved at the storming of Sevastopol? how I held the rifle-pits against a host of the enemy? how at the Alma I climbed up the heights, shouting ‘Death or victory!’ when my men were driven back by the showers of bullets hissing past us and might have fled? Why, sir, if any officer deserved the Victoria Cross, I did!”
“I have not heard of your brave deeds, Major Bubsby,” answered Jack, “and it is my duty to land you and your wife and daughters at the nearest place to your destination. The state of the surf prevented my doing so at Waterloo Bay, and now I have only to inform you that the boat is waiting to convey you and your family on shore. Your heavy baggage has already been sent off; what remains can be carried with you.”
The major looked aghast. “Surely, Captain Rogers, you do not mean to say you insist on my landing, whether I like it or not, and would compel me and my delicate wife and those fair young creatures to march thirty miles or more through the sands of Africa without conveyance for ourselves and baggage?”
“Duty is duty, major,” answered Jack, who was determined not to take him back if he could help it. “Your duty is to land, mine is to put you on shore. You’ll excuse me for saying this, but I intend to perform my duty.”
The major, seeing that he had no help for it, made a virtue of necessity. He called out to his wife—