A SAFE RETURN.
Just at sunset that night the anxious group of officers on the dock
caught sight of the smoke from the Naiad’s funnels, and in a little
while the great frigate came in sight. As she neared her anchorage in
the sunset glow they could see the scarcity of officers on her decks;
there were only Brydell, Manning, and Buxton; for, although Verdery was
on deck, he was seated in a chair with his eyes bound up.
“Gentlemen,” said Admiral Beaumont to his officers as the ship was hove
to and anchored in seamanlike style, “yonder shows what can be done by a
lot of schoolboys who know their duty and can do it. The eldest of those
young officers, young Brydell, is scarcely more than a boy, yet he acted
with all the boldness and decision of a man, and has done as well as you
or I or any of us could.”
And then a cheer went up from the crowds on the dock, the admiral
leading and waving his cap enthusiastically. As soon as a boat could be
set off Admiral Beaumont, the captain, and the officers went aboard.
When Brydell met them at the gangway he was far from being the trim and
fresh-looking young fellow he had been twenty-four hours before. His
eyes were heavy from want of sleep, and his face evidently needed
washing. His uniform had got wet and dried on him without improving his
appearance in the least. But Admiral Beaumont saw none of this; he only
wrung Brydell’s hand without speaking. Brydell, with a flush rising in
his wan face, said, smiling:—
“No accidents, admiral, except Mr. Verdery’s with his eyes, and the
surgeon says that will not be serious, and one staysail torn, but I
think it can be mended.”
Verdery, holding on to the surgeon’s arm, rose to shake hands with the
admiral. “And I wish to tell you, sir,” he said loudly so everybody
could hear him, “that I was disabled at the very beginning of the storm
and never gave an order, and the safety of the ship and her company is
due entirely to the coolness, ability, and courage of Mr. Brydell, who
commanded through it all, and that of the other officers acting under
his orders.”
Brydell turned crimson; he had only done his duty, and he felt ashamed
to be made a hero of in that way.
“Any other officer, I am sure, would have done as well,” he managed to
stammer. “Mr. Crawford, Mr. Manning, Mr. Buxton—all did equally well.”
“Very true,” said the admiral, smiling. “It is presumed that all
officers do their duty intelligently in an emergency, but it is very
great good fortune for a young officer to have a chance for distinction,
and to be equal to the occasion, and I desire to express my very great
satisfaction at your conduct.”
The other two young midshipmen and the engineer were also highly
praised, nor was Verdery’s admirable example in remaining on deck
forgotten, and the Naiad was indeed a happy ship. And in a little while
a boat was seen pulling from the Spitfire, and in a few minutes Captain
Brydell stepped aboard the Naiad.
Brydell was so worn out with fatigue and excitement that as soon as the
captain resumed command he would have gone below at once except for the
expectation of seeing his father, but he waited for that. Captain
Brydell had meant to shake hands with him formally in the presence of so
many officers and men, but before they knew it, almost, father and son
were in each other’s arms. The admiral took Brydell by the shoulder.
“Young man,” said he, “do you go below and go to sleep. Captain Brydell
and I want to hear all about the affair from someone who observed your
gallant conduct, and will do it justice much more than you would—so go.”
Brydell needed no second order. He went below, and throwing himself, all
dressed as he was, upon his bunk, in five minutes was sleeping like a
log.