True Blue had not danced a hornpipe for many a long year,—it would not have been dignified while he was a boatswain,—but he had not forgotten how to do so. That he very soon showed, to the satisfaction of all present, especially to that of Mary, and not a little to that of Sam Smatch, who, in defiance of all the rules of etiquette, kept shouting, “Bravo, Billy—well done, Billy—keep at it, boy! I taught him, dat I did—dat’s it. I played de first tune to him he ever danced to. Bravo, Billy! You do my heart good—dat you do. Hurray! hurray! Billy True Blue for ever in dancing a hornpipe!”
As the dancing could not last all the evening, the parrots and the monkey and a considerable portion of the contents of the bags were brought in to be exhibited, and, as it proved, to be distributed among the owner’s old friends.
True Blue had given his cage full of birds to Mrs Pringle, as he knew she would prize it; he had, however, gifts especially brought for Mrs Bush and all her family, as well as for Mrs Ogle, and for several other friends not so intimately related to him as they were; and he found that they were the means of affording infinite satisfaction to all parties.
The first thing the next morning, after breakfast, the young warrant-officers set off to pay their respects to the three old warrant-officers in Portsmouth Harbour, on board the Jupiter, Lion, and Portland, seventy-fours.
Paul Pringle was, of course, the first visited, His pipe was shrilly sounding as ponderous yards and coils of rope and casks and guns and gun-carriages and other innumerable fittings and gear of a ship were being hoisted up and lowered into lighters alongside, to convey them to the dockyard. His delight at seeing True Blue as he stepped on deck was so great that he forgot to pipe “Belay,” and a twenty-four pounder would have been run up to the yardarm had not his godson instinctively supplied the omission with his own pipe, though, when Harry afterwards informed him of the fact, he was not in the slightest degree aware that he had done so.
As Paul was then so very busy, they promised to return at dinner time, and went on to see Peter Ogle. It was remarked, however, that Paul did not for the remainder of the forenoon carry on his duties with his usual exactness, and seemed far more elated and excitable than was his wont.
Peter Ogle’s pleasure at seeing True Blue was only surpassed by that of Paul. He received his old friends in his cabin, which, as True Blue glanced round it, showed that a considerable amount of feminine taste had been exercised in its adornment.
“Make yourselves at home, my lads—brother officers, I should say, though,” he said, glancing at their uniforms, “It is a pleasure to see you, Billy, my dear boy, and you too, Harry, though I haven’t known you by some fifteen years or more so long as True Blue. Boy, bring glasses. Here’s some real honest schiedam, taken out of a Dutch prize. Help yourselves. You neither of you are topers, I know; so much the better. And now let’s hear what you’ve been about since I last clapped eyes on you.”
True Blue on this gave a rapid account of their doings in the Rover after the Gannet had sailed for England, and of numerous adventures which had subsequently befallen them before they once more returned home.
After a visit paid to Abel Bush, who welcomed them home as cordially as their other old friends had done, they returned to dine with Paul Pringle.