Mrs. Loudon

“Pleasant to the ear is the praise of kings;
But, Carril, forget not the lowly.”

At this time there was no passing in any sea-port, but before three captains. Oscar and Edmund, therefore, proceeded to town. The anxious hour, big with the fate of many a middy, arrived. The friends, accordingly, having already got through their first examination with success, now wended their way to the great centre of naval hopes and fears, to answer such final queries as it might be judged necessary to put to them. Entering an ante-room, they approached a standing group of youngsters, who, probably, had not much interest to smooth their path, for their conversation chiefly turned on subjects of discontent. One, whose name was Bullen, and who had once been a messmate of Ormond’s, seemed to be chief spokesman. He was growling at the additional difficulty which, he asserted, there was now every day in passing. “A young man might know it all well enough aboard,” he said, “but to have a parcel of old-wigs staring a fellow in the face, and asking him puzzlers, why, it was enough to scatter the brains of any one of common modesty!”

“If that is all,” said one of his companions, for middies are not ceremonious, “there is no fear of you, Bullen: your modesty will never stand in your way!”

“I hope not,” answered Bullen, “nor any thing else, if I can help it. At any rate, I should be sorry to be quite so soft a one as Armstrong! Only think,” he continued, turning to Ormond, “only think of that foolish fellow Armstrong! One of the old-wigs asked him (saw he was soft, I suppose) the simplest question in the world, just to try him. Well, old-wig stares him in the face, and looking devilish knowing, says, ‘Suppose yourself, Sir, in a gale of wind on a lee shore, the ship in great danger of going on the rocks, when, the wind suddenly shifting, you are taken all aback, what, Sir, would you do in this critical juncture?’ Instead of answering, ‘Clap on sail, and put out to sea,’ poor Armstrong took it for granted he should not have been asked the question if it were not a puzzler, and was so confounded, that he looked like a fool, and had not a word to say, till the old-wigs themselves were all obliged to laugh out.”

At this moment Bullen was sent for to attend the said old-wigs, as he called them; and though he still tried to bluster, he coloured to the very roots of his hair at the awful summons. On his return, however, he came laughing and swaggering, and bolting into the midst of the still standing group, he seized a button of Ormond’s coat with one hand, and of Edmund’s with the other, and began to tell his story.

“Have you passed? have you passed?” cried many voices.

“Have I passed!” repeated Bullen. “There is no difficulty in passing.”

“I thought it was very difficult, a short time since,” observed Ormond.

“Well, well—so it may be to some: I found no difficulty, however. But listen till I tell you the fun. They thought they had got another Armstrong to deal with, I suppose; for one of the old fellows, looking as wise as Solomon, and as pompous as the grand Mogul, turned his eyes full on me, and began. I felt mine inclined to take a peep at my shoe-buckles; but, mustering all my courage, I raised them, stared straight in his face, clenched my teeth, drew my heels together, thus, and stood firm.

“‘Well, Sir!’ said old-wig, ‘hitherto you have answered well.’—This was encouraging. ‘Now,’ he continued, ‘suppose yourself on a lee shore, under a heavy press of sail, the wind blowing such a gale that, in short, it is impossible to save the ship, what, Sir, would you do?’

“‘Why, let her go ashore and be d——d!’ I replied. Then, thinking I had been too rough, I added, with a bow, that I should never take the liberty of saving a ship which his lordship judged it impossible to save. He smiled, and said I had a fine bold spirit, just fit for a brave British tar! So I sailed out of port with flying colours, but no pennant, faith: I heard nothing of my commission.

“After all,” he continued, “what is the use of passing, when, if a man has not the devil and all of Scotch interest, and all that stuff, he don’t know when he’ll get made; but may, in all probability, be a youngster at forty! a middy in the cockpit, when he is as grey as a badger! There’s a fellow aboard of us now, who jumped over three times,—no less,—to save boys who fell over the ship’s side, and couldn’t swim; (he swims like a fish himself;) but he’s not Scotch! Well, the captain wrote word to the Admiralty; and what reward do you think they gave him? Why, employed one of their sneaking under scratchatories to write an official line and a half, importing, that ‘their lordships were pleased to approve of his conduct.’”

“You may depend upon it,” replied Ormond, to whom Bullen chiefly addressed himself, “that his name is marked for promotion, as soon as a convenient opportunity offers.”

“Convenient!” interrupted Bullen: “it would be devilish convenient to me, I know, to be made just now.”

“And in the meantime,” continued Ormond, “what can be more gratifying than the approbation of the respectable heads of the department, under which he serves his country?”

“I think,” said our hero, whose opinions, like himself, were young, and therefore unsophisticated, “the lords of the admiralty do but justice to the motives of British officers, when they deem approbation the first of rewards! I mean, of course, in a public sense; considering their lordships, in pronouncing that approbation, as the organs, not only of government, but also of the nation, on naval affairs; of which they are constituted the judges.”

“Besides,” said Ormond, “you forget how many men, in the British navy, have risen to the highest rank, without any interest whatever, entirely in consequence of meritorious conduct.”

“That was long ago,” replied Bullen sulkily. “But it’s very easy for you to talk! You, the son of Admiral Lord Fitz-Ullin; sure of whatever you want, and want nothing neither! Aye, aye, that’s the way of the world! I wish you’d make your father get me my commission, I know!”

The other young men looked at each other, and smiled.

“Well,” said Ormond, laughing; “do something very brilliant to deserve it; and if the Admiralty give you approbation only, I pledge myself you shall not want interest. Here is my friend, Montgomery,” he added, turning to Edmund, “saying not a word; and yet, so just a sense have their lordships of his merits, that he has no use for interest, though he possesses it in the greatest profusion.”

“Does he faith?” exclaimed Bullen, “I wish he’d give it to me, then!”

Here all laughed out. And now Lord Ormond was summoned. He went; and, in due time, returned with rather a conscious smile on his countenance.

“Well!” cried Bullen. “Well!” echoed a dozen voices at once. “Well!” repeated Ormond; but proceeded no further.

Edmund began to question his amused-looking friend somewhat anxiously, as to how matters stood; and whether there was really any difficulty, to one who knew what he was about.

“Why, to tell you the truth,” said Ormond, laughing out at last, “the only question they asked me, was—But I’ll not tell you—guess!—all guess!—I give you fifty guesses!”

Every puzzler which had been conned by any of the party, was now proposed and rejected, in turn; at first, with much of loud merriment; subsiding, finally, however, into grave wonder; for unguessed riddles are apt to grow dull.

“I am sure I can guess no more,” said Edmund at last. “Tell!” cried one. “Tell!” cried another. “Can’t you tell!” vociferated Bullen.

“Well,” said Ormond, “do you all give it up?”

“Yes!” “Yes!” “We all give it up!” “We all give it up!” answered many voices eagerly. And the circle drew itself closer round him.

“Well, then,” proceeded Ormond, “they asked me how”—and here he hesitated and laughed again.

“How what?” cried Bullen. “How what?” “How what?” “How what?” cried all.

“How my father was!!!” concluded his lordship, trying to look grave.

“No!” exclaimed every voice at once.

“I told you how it would be with you,” cried Bullen.

“But you are not serious?” demanded Edmund.

“But I am, faith!” answered his friend.

“And they asked you nothing else?” pursued Edmund.

“No,” said Ormond—“but, yes, they did, by the bye; they asked me to take a glass of wine, and a bit of cake.”

“And you passed?” demanded Bullen.

“I did,” replied Ormond.

“And are to have your commission, I suppose?”

His lordship answered in the affirmative.

Our hero was now summoned. He met with a very flattering reception; and, after a respectable examination, was informed, that his commission should be made out immediately. He had also the satisfaction of being expressly told, that he was thus early promoted, to mark their lordship’s approbation of his gallant and meritorious conduct, as reported by Captain B. How different this from being turned out of the ship in disgrace! thought Edmund.