When Mark Merrill was presented to the commandant of the Naval Academy
he felt deeply embarrassed at the publicity which had been given to his
arrival.
He had sailed up to the academy from Norfolk to save money on the
railroads, and then he saw that Shipper Crane and his sons had a
lurking desire to see where he was going to anchor for the next few
years, while cramming his head with all the cargo of learning necessary
to make a skilled naval officer.
And Mark had been anxious to have the skipper tell his mother when he
returned that he had left him at his destination, and what he thought
of his future home.
He certainly had not intended to attract attention by his arrival, but
greatness had been forced upon him by a combination of circumstances
which he could not avoid.
Although when the commandant had entered the navy, back in the
“Forties,” there had been no naval school, except aboard ship, he had
been a middy, and was well aware that they had not changed much since
those days.
He understood that Cadet Captain Bascomb and his mates had in some
way gotten wind of the coming of Mark Merrill, and had at once seized
upon him as a hero, the fact of his saving the yacht Midshipman having
leaked out.
There were a number of officers at headquarters, and they, as well
as the commandant, looked on with interest at the introduction of the
newly appointed lad.
Mark, though his face was flushed with embarrassment, had doffed his
tarpaulin and stepped forward toward the commandant, and said:
“I am ordered to report to you, sir, but did not know that I was
breaking any rule in coming as I did by water.”
“I am glad to meet you, Mr. Merrill, and to welcome you to the Naval
Academy, while I do not know of any law against a cadet coming by
water.” And the commandant smiled, while, turning to the cadets, he
continued:
“You may leave Mr. Merrill in my charge now, Captain Bascomb, and I am
glad that you gave him the welcome you did, as, from all accounts, he
is deserving of it.”
The cadets saluted, and were marched off by their captain, while the
commandant, in a kindly way, invited Mark into his quarters.
To his surprise Mark beheld in the room, standing by the window where
he had seen all, no less a personage than Scott Clemmons.
The latter had just arrived, and reported to the commandant.
He was most fashionably attired, wore a spotless white silk tie around
his standing collar, and held in his hand a high hat, presenting a
perfect specimen of the youthful genus dude.
His face was pale, and his eyes had an angry look as he turned them
furtively upon Mark.
“Here is also a young gentleman from your State; in fact, I believe you
are neighbors, as you both hail from B----. Mr. Merrill, Mr. Clemmons,”
said the commandant, introducing them.
Scott Clemmons, in a nervous way, half-stepped forward with extended
hand, but Mark simply bowed, ignoring the hand, a fact which the keen
eyes of the commandant took in, and rather set down against Mark, who
said:
“Yes, sir, I have met Mr. Clemmons before.”
There was something in the tone and manner in which it was said that
convinced the commandant that their meeting had not been a pleasant
one, and Scott Clemmons remarked in a supercilious way:
“Yes, commandant, but this young man does not move in my circle at
home, being only a fisher lad.”
The commandant almost gave a start, and his kindly face changed so
suddenly to a look of sternness that even Scott Clemmons saw that he
had made a mistake.
Had he not seen it, he was instantly made cognizant of the fact, for
the commandant turned directly toward him, and said in a distinct way:
“Mr. Clemmons, I believe your father is a man of great wealth and
comes of an aristocratic family, but you must distinctly learn at once
that here, in this Naval School, neither politics, riches, nor family
connections hold the slightest influence.
“There are no cliques; all who come here come as young gentlemen, and
though many are from the lowest walks of life they must be gentlemen
here.
“Mr. Merrill may have been a fisher lad, but I have it from the best
of authority that he made an honest living and supported his mother,
and he was appointed here for having nobly risked his life to save the
lives of others.”
“I never heard of that, sir, and wondered how he got appointed,”
blustered out the confused Clemmons.
“You never heard how he saved the yacht Midshipman from being wrecked,
with the Secretary of the Navy and other distinguished gentlemen on
board?” asked the commandant, with some surprise.
“No, sir, it was not known in our town.”
“Then, sir,” was the very decided answer, “Mr. Mark Merrill is as
modest as he is brave, not to have told of his daring deed,” and he
glanced at Mark, who replied with a quiet dig at Scott Clemmons:
“I move in no social circle, sir, so had no one to tell it to.”
The commandant turned his head away to hide a satisfied smile, while
Scott Clemmons felt that he had made a sad mistake in his slur at Mark
for being only a fisher lad.