It was with considerable nervousness that Scott Clemmons went into the cabin of his captain. It may have been from the effects of his too liberal “treats” of himself the night before, and, perhaps, from a knowledge of the fact that he had yawed wide of his course in telling his story about the affair ashore in which Mark Merrill had been mixed up. He, however, without a chance to “splice the main-brace” to steady his nerves, braced up as best he could, and reported himself to his commander. “Mr. Clemmons, may I ask you if you actually saw the occurrence ashore last evening in which Cadet Midshipman Merrill and Breslin had a set-to?” “Yes, sir, I was, as I said, talking to Breslin at the time, for he was importuning me to give him some money.” “Then I beg to say, Mr. Clemmons, that for sixty days you are allowed no leaves ashore, in ports we may visit, as your condition at the time of the affair was such that you could not see straight, or viewed it with purposely biased eyes.” “But Captain De Long, may I ask, sir, if this censure of me is from having heard the report of others?” “It is, sir; I have the facts from witnesses of the affair. I have no more to say, Mr. Clemmons.” Scott Clemmons felt crushed at the rebuke, but mustered up courage to say: “I beg, Captain De Long, that you will remember that Merrill is not friendly toward me, sir, and his statement——” “Silence, sir! Mr. Merrill reported his act at once to me, and did not even mention your name as having been the friend of Breslin at the time, while you, on the contrary, never friendly toward Mr. Merrill, saw his actions only in a prejudiced way. I have no more to say, Mr. Clemmons.” Scott Clemmons dared say no more, so departed from the cabin with the knowledge that he had made a mistake in reporting an affair in which he had no concern. Then, too, he recalled a disagreeable meeting before him, as Bemis Perry had said that he desired to see him. That young sailor was awaiting his coming, aware, seemingly, that the captain would not detain him long. “You desired to see me, Perry?” he said, his face flushed and angry. “Yes, as I told you,” was the quiet response. “May I ask if you reported to Captain De Long that I was present yesterday in that disgraceful scene at the Astor House?” “See here, Clemmons,” and the words of the cadet were spoken very quickly: “I am not a tattler, nor am I an informer. Captain De Long sent for me, and asked for my version of the affair.” “Who first told him?” “Merrill, like the man he is, reported his action ashore, but never referred to you, and Captain De Long asked who was Breslin’s companion, and I told him that you were, for, as a fellow cadet, you certainly would be willing to prove, as a witness, that Breslin “Ah!” and Clemmons started, and quickly asked: “Do you know who they are?” “I do not, for I overheard the affair being talked about, and as neither Merrill nor myself referred to it, and you doubtless did not, some of our fellows must have seen it, though unseen by us. If the affair is called up we will doubtless know who they are.” Scott Clemmons looked uneasy, for he felt that his version would differ from what all others had, or might tell of the occurrence. But he hoped that as he was already under punishment he would hear no more of it, so he said coldly: “You wished to see me, I believe?” “Yes, I wished to return to you a paper which you left on the dining table at the Astor House yesterday—the waiter gave it to me.” He handed over the telltale paper as he spoke, and after a glance at it the face of Scott Clemmons crimsoned to a painful extent, and then so suddenly grew white that he seemed as though about to faint. But he rallied quickly, and with a reckless laugh said: “Oh, yes, I had not missed it. It is the pledged word of that scamp Breslin never to come near me again, as I suppose you know?” “Yes, I read it, I frankly confess, for it was handed to me open; but you pay high for the loss of Breslin’s society, Clemmons, and one would almost think he blackmailed you. That was all I wished to see you about,” and Perry walked away, leaving Scott Clemmons in a very unenviable humor. After a few days passed in the harbor of the metropolis the good ship set sail and headed across the seas for “A life on the ocean wave, A home on the rolling deep.” |