A few days after the fleet under the command of Lord Fitz-Ullin had arrived on its station, the Glorious, Edmund’s old ship, joined, and making the usual signal for a lieutenant from each vessel at anchor, our hero, as officer from the Erina, went on board. While receiving the salutations of his former friends, his attention, as well as theirs, was arrested by the appearance of a boat, which was falling alongside, and in which, if they could believe their Henry came on board. All his old messmates collecting round him, demanded clamourously how he had got out of the scrape in which they had left him. “Scrape!” repeated Henry, in a contemptuous tone. “The best thing that ever happened to me; I might have been a poor devil of a middy, down there in your confounded cockpit yet, but for it!” “Why, d— it,” said Walton, “if I thought they would make me a post-captain for it, I would get drunk to night! but tell us how you got made, man, after our throwing you out, like spare ballast, on that rascally beach at Plymouth?” “Why,” answered Henry, “I waited upon the first lord of the Admiralty, and informed “Yier taste was sae vara uncommon, sir!” observed the Scot, “that his lordship did na care te balk ye?” “Precisely so, sir,” said Henry, with a bow. “But, joking apart, Henry,” said Edmund, “do tell us how it happened.” In fact, the friend Henry had met with at Plymouth, but whom he did not name even to Edmund, had informed him that Lord L. was just returned to England on business connected with his diplomacy, and was at that time actually in London. Henry had set out that night for London, waited on Lord L., and, without any mention of his being in disgrace, said that his time being served, he had hastened |