The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Gerald did try to pull up with might and main, but it was too late, his steed stumbled, shooting him as from a catapult, right on the top—not of a humble padre, but of a bishop of the holy Roman Empire, when his floundering steed upsetting the leading bearer, bishop and midshipman rolled over together, the former shouting for help, the latter apologising. The matter did not stop here. Though Adair managed to clear the bishop, after knocking over one of his lordship’s footmen, his steed bolted into the midst of the cavaliers behind, coming full tilt, as ill-luck would have it, against Commander Babbicome of the Tudor, who, in spite of his boasted horsemanship, was incontinently capsized, while, before he could recover himself, or his companions rescue him, down came thundering on them the rest of the hilarious cavalcade. Several of the riders, including Tom, attempting to rein in their animals, were sent flying over the prostrate bishop, among the foremost ranks of the party ascending the mountain, while the rest dashing on overthrew the military governor and several other personages of distinction, till Jack, who had from the first reined in his steed, and was behind the rest, could see nothing but a confused mass of kicking legs, and cocked hats, and naval caps, and here and there heads and backs and arms, with a shaven crown in their midst, blocking up the narrow roadway, shouts, cries, shrieks and execrations issuing from among them. The liberated horses had dashed on, leaving their riders to their fate. This contributed considerably to lessen the difficulties of the case. The drivers coming up, Jack dismounted, and giving his horse to one of them ran to assist the bishop and his fallen friends. The midshipmen quickly picked themselves up, very much frightened at what they had done, but not a bit the worse for their tumble. The ecclesiastic was next placed on his legs, with robes somewhat rumpled, but happily without contusions or bones broken, though dreadfully alarmed and inclined to be somewhat angry at the indignity he had suffered. Jack endeavoured to apologise with the few words of Portuguese he could command, Tom and Gerald assisting him to the best of their power, though their united vocabulary failed to convey their sentiments. Meantime, the dismounted cavaliers behind had regained their saddles, as had the gunroom officers and young gentlemen who had tilted against them their feet. Lieutenant Jennings and Terence had scraped clear without losing their seats, but nearly all the rest had been unhorsed. Commander Babbicome was the only one who had suffered damage, and he had received a bloody nose by a blow from his horse’s head, but he was infinitely the most irate. “It is a disgrace to the service that such things should be allowed,” he exclaimed. “Captain Hemming, I shall demand a court-martial on your officers, or an ample apology. Mine know how to respect their commander.” At that moment his eye fell on his own purser and surgeon, with two or three others who were trying to get by close to the wall on either side. “Ah! I see; they shall hear more about it, they may depend on that!”

“Lieutenant Adair will be ready to make you an ample apology, I can answer for that, and you know that naval officers are not always the best of horsemen, of which we have just had an example,” said Captain Hemming, who, though annoyed at what had happened, wished to soothe the feelings of the angry commander.

The Portuguese officers ascertaining that the bishop was unhurt took their own overthrow very coolly. “It’s the way of those young English naval officers,” they observed, with a shrug of the shoulders. “Paciencia!”

With bows and further apologies the two parties separated; the one to partake of the banquet prepared for them, the other to make the best of their way into the town.

“Uncle Terence, you bate me, I’ll acknowledge, but if it hadn’t been for the fat bishop I’d have won,” exclaimed Gerald, as they met Adair not very comfortable in his mind, coming back to look for them.

“We shall all get into a precious row, ye young spalpeen, in consequence of your freak,” answered Adair. “Why didn’t you pull up at once when I told you?”

“Pull up was it ye say, Uncle Terence?” cried the irrepressible young Irish boy. “Faith now, that’s a good joke. Didn’t I pull till I thought my arms would be after coming off, but my baste pulled a mighty dale harder.”

“Really that nephew of mine will be getting into serious difficulties if he does not learn to restrain the exuberance of his spirits,” said Terence quite seriously to Jack, as they rode on together. “When I was a youngster I never went as far as he does.”

“As to that, we are apt to forget what we were, and what we did, in the days of our boyhood,” answered Jack, laughing heartily.

“You certainly had a wonderful aptitude for getting out of scrapes when you had tumbled into them. However, as it is wiser to keep clear of them altogether, you will do well to give your nephew a lecture on the subject, and I hope that he will benefit by it. I intend to bestow some good advice on Tom on the subject. Many a promising lad injures his future prospects by thoughtlessness. Though we were not always as wise as Solomon, we were invariably sober fellows, or we should probably have come to grief like so many others we have known.”