“I told you you were a fool!”
In spite of his determination, Daniel was too much troubled not to
commit a blunder. He insisted,--
“It is a matter of life and death with me, captain. And if you only knew
my reasons; if I could tell them”--
“Reasons which cannot be told are always bad reasons, sir. I insist upon
what I have told you.”
“Then, captain, I shall be compelled, to my infinite sorrow, to insist
upon offering my resignation.”
The old sailor’s brow became darker and darker. He growled.
“Your resignation, your resignation! You talk of it very lightly. It
remains to be seen whether it will be accepted. ‘The Conquest’ does not
sail on a pleasure-party; she is sent out on a serious campaign, and
will probably be absent for some time. We have unpleasant complications
down there and are sending out reinforcements. You are still in France;
but you are actually under orders to meet the enemy; Men do not resign
in the face of the enemy, Lieut. Champcey!”
Daniel had turned very pale.
“You are severe, captain,” he said.
“I have no idea, I assure you, of being gentle; and, if that can induce
you to change your mind”--
“Unfortunately, I cannot alter my decision.”
The old sailor rose violently, and walked up and down the room several
times, giving vent to his anger in oaths of various kinds; then he
returned to Daniel, and said in his driest tone,--
“If that is so, the case is serious; I must report it to the secretary
of the navy. What time is it? Eleven o’clock. Come here again at half-
past twelve. I shall have settled the matter then.”
Quite certain that his superior would say nothing in his favor, Daniel
retired, walking hurriedly through the narrow passages, when a joyous
voice hailed him, calling out, “Champcey!”
He turned, and found himself face to face with two of his comrades, with
whom he had been most intimate at school. They said eagerly,--
“So you are our superior now?”
And, with the utmost sincerity, they began to congratulate him,
delighted, as they said, that such good luck should have fallen upon a
man like him, whom everybody thought worthy of the distinction, and who
reflected honor upon the service. No enemy could have inflicted such
suffering upon Daniel as these two friends did. There was not one of
their good wishes which did not amount to a bitter sarcasm; every word
they said told upon him.
“You must confess, however,” they continued, “that you are a lucky man,
like no other. One day you are made a lieutenant; and the next day they
offer you active service. The next time we meet, you will be a captain
in command of a frigate.”
“I am not going out,” replied Daniel, fiercely. “I have handed in my
resignation.”
And, leaving his two friends looking utterly amazed, he went away at a
rapid pace.
Certainly, he had not foreseen all these difficulties; and in his blind
wrath he charged his chief with injustice and tyranny. He said,--
“I must stay in Paris; and I will stay.”
Reflection, far from calming him, only excited him the more. Having left
home with the intention of offering his resignation only in an extreme
case, he was now determined to adhere to his plan, even if they should
offer him full satisfaction. Had he not an ample income of his own?
and could he not always find an honorable occupation? That would be
far better than to continue in a profession where one is never his own
master, but lives eternally under the dread of some order that may send
him, at a moment’s warning, to heaven knows what part of the world.
That was the way he reasoned with himself while breakfasting at a tavern
not far off; and when he returned to the department, a little after
twelve, he looked upon himself as already no longer belonging to the
navy, and in his imagination caring little for the final decision.
It was the hour for receptions, when everybody who had any business at
the department came to look after his interests; and the anteroom
was filled with officers of every grade, some in uniform, others in
citizen’s dress.
The conversation was very animated; for Daniel heard the sounds from the
outer passage.
He entered; and there was silence,--sudden, deep, chilling silence.
Evidently they had been talking about him.
Even if he could have doubted it for a moment, he read it in the faces
turned aside, the forced smiles, and the cautious glances with which he
was received. He thought, very much troubled,--
“What can this mean?”
In the meantime a young man in citizen’s dress, whom he did not know,
called out from one side of the room to the other, to an old officer
in a seedy uniform, with blackened epaulets (a real sea-dog),
lean, bronzed, wrinkled, and with eyes bearing the traces of recent
ophthalmy,--
“Why do you stop, lieutenant? We were much interested, I assure you.”
The lieutenant seemed to hesitate, as if he were making up his mind to
do a disagreeable thing, which still did not depend on his choice; and
then he resumed his account,--
“Well, we got there, convinced that we had taken all the necessary
precautions, and that there was, consequently, nothing to fear,--fine
precautions they turned out to be! In the course of a week the whole
crew was laid up; and as to the staff, little Bertram and I were the
only officers able to appear on deck. Moreover, my eyes were in a state.
You see what they say now. The captain was the first to die; the same
evening five sailors followed suit, and seven the next day; the day
after the first lieutenant and two of the noncommissioned officers. The
like was never seen before.”
Daniel turned to his neighbor.
“Who is that officer?” he asked.
“Lieut. Dutac of ‘The Valorous,’ just returned from Cochin China.”
Light broke upon Daniel’s mind; it was a painful light.
“When did ‘The Valorous’ come in?” he asked again.
“Six days ago she made the harbor of Brest.”