A supercilious-looking waiter--that is to say, a waiter who has had a
good season and saved a little money--was standing at the door of the
oldest hotel in Covent Garden, when a clumsy coach was driven up to the
door.
The coach was so old and shabby, and drawn by two such wretched beasts,
that the supercilious waiter could not see it; and after looking to his
right and his left he turned to go in.
"Here, hi!" came from the coach; but the waiter paid no heed.
"Here, Syd, fetch that scoundrel here."
The door was flung open, the lad leaped out and went at the waiter like
a dog, seizing him by the collar, spinning him round, and racing him
protesting the while down the steps and over the rough pavement to the
coach door.
"You insolent scoundrel, why didn't you come when I called?" said
Captain Belton, from inside the fusty coach.
"Don't I tell you we're full!" cried the waiter; "and don't you come
putting--"
"Silence, sir! how dare you!" cried the captain in his fiercest tones.
"How do you know that we want to stay in your dirty hotel? Take my card
up to Captain Dashleigh, and say I am waiting."
The man glanced at the card, turned, and ran with alacrity into the
house.
"That's just the sort of fellow I should like to set Strake at, Syd,
with his mates and the cat. A flogging would do him good."
The next minute the waiter was back at the coach door with Captain
Dashleigh's compliments, delivered in the most servile tones, and would
Captain Belton step up?
"Get down my valise and pay the coachman," said the captain. "We shall
sleep here to-night, though you are full."
They were shown into a room where a little, dandified man in full
uniform was walking up and down, evidently dictating to his secretary,
who was busily writing.
Syd stared. He had been accustomed to look upon his father and uncle,
and the friends who came to see them, as types of naval officers--big,
loud-spoken, grey-haired, bluff men, well tanned by long exposure to the
weather; and he wondered who this individual could be who walked with
one hand upon the hilt of his sword, pressing it down so that the sheath
projected nearly at right angles between the tails of his coat, and as
he walked it seemed to wag about like a monkeyish part of his person.
The other hand held a delicate white handkerchief, which he waved about,
and at each movement it scented the air.
"Ah, my dear Captain Belton, so glad to see you. Lucky your call was
now. So much occupied, you see. Sit down, my dear sir. And this is
your son? Ah," he continued, inspecting Syd through a gold-rimmed
eyeglass, "nice little lad. Looks healthy and well. Seems only the
other day I joined the service in his uncle's ship. I have your
brother's letter in my secretary's hands. So glad to oblige him if I
can. How is the dear old fellow?"
"Hearty, Captain Dashleigh," said Syd's father. "Desired to be kindly
remembered to you."
"Ah, very good of him. Splendid officer! The service has lost a great
deal through his growing too old."
"We don't consider ourselves too old for service. Timbers are sound.
We only want the Admiralty to give us commands."
"Ah, yes, to be sure," said the dandy captain, who seemed to be about
eight-and-thirty; and he continued his walk up and down the room as his
visitors sat.
"You have succeeded well, Dashleigh," said Captain Belton.
"Well, yes--pretty well--pretty well. Very arduous life though."
"Oh, hang the arduous life, sir," said Captain Belton. "It's a grand
thing to be in command of a two-decker."
"Yes," said the little man, who in physique was rather less than Sydney;
"the Government trust me, and his Majesty seems to have confidence in my
powers. But you will, I know, excuse me, my dear old friend, if I
venture to hint that my time is not my own. Sir Thomas said you would
call and explain how I could serve him. What can I do? One moment--I
need not say that I look upon him as my father in the profession, and
that I shall be delighted to serve him. You will take a pinch?"
He handed a magnificent gold snuff-box set with diamonds, and a portrait
on china in the lid indicated that it came from one of the ministers.
"Thanks, yes. But, my dear Dashleigh, you should not use scented
snuff."
"Eh?--no? The fashion, my dear sir. Now I am all attention."
"Then why don't you sit down as a gentleman would?" said Captain Belton
to himself. Then aloud--"My business is very simple, sir. This is my
son, whom I wish to devote to the King's service, and my brother, Sir
Thomas Belton, asks, and I endorse his petition, that you will enter him
in your ship, and try to do by him as my brother did by you."
"My dear Captain Belton! Ah, this is sad! What could have been more
unfortunate! If you had only been a week sooner!"
"What's the matter, sir?" said the captain, sternly.
"Matter?--I am pained, my dear Captain Belton; absolutely pained. I
would have done anything to serve you both, my dear friends, but my
midshipmen's berth is crammed. I could not--dare not--take another. If
there was anything else I could do to serve Sir Thomas and you I should
be delighted."
"Thank you, Captain Dashleigh," said Syd's father, rising; "there is
nothing else. I will not detain you longer."
"I would say lunch with me, my dear sir, but really--as you see--my
secretary--the demands upon my time--you thoroughly understand?"
"Yes, sir, I understand. Good morning."
"Good morning, my dear Captain Belton; _good_ morning, my young friend.
I will speak to any of the commanding officers I know on your behalf.
Good day."
The captain stalked silently down-stairs, closely followed by Syd, and
then led the way round and round the market, taking snuff savagely
without a word.
But all at once he stopped and drew himself up, and gave his cane a
thump on the pavement, while his son thought what a fine-looking, manly
fellow he was, and what a pleasure it was to gaze upon such a specimen
of humanity after the interview with the dandy they had left.
"Syd," said the captain, fiercely, "if I thought you would grow up into
such an imitation man as that, confound you, sir, I'd take and pitch you
over one of the bridges."
"Thank you, father. Then you don't like Captain Dashleigh?"
"Like him, sir? A confounded ungrateful dandy Jackanapes captain of a
seventy-four-gun ship! Great heavens! the Government must be mad. But
that's it--interest at court! Such a fellow has been promoted over the
heads of hundreds of better men. All your uncle's services to him
forgotten, and mine too."
"But if there wasn't room in his ship, father?"
"Room in his ship sir?" cried the captain, wrathfully. "Do you think
there would not have been room in my ship for the son and nephew of two
old friends? Why, hang me, if I'd been under that man's obligations,
I'd have shared my cabin with the boy but what he should have gone."
"Yes, father, I think you would. So we've failed."
"Failed? Yes. No; never say die. But I'm glad. Hang him! With a
captain like that, what is the ship's company likely to be! No, Syd, if
you can't go afloat with a decent captain, you shall turn doctor or
tailor."
"Why don't you have a ship again, father?"
"Because I have no interest, my boy, and don't go petitioning and
begging at court. But they don't want sea-captains now, they want
scented popinjays. Why, Syd, I've begged for a ship scores of times
during the past two years, but always been passed over. I wouldn't care
if they'd appoint better men; but when I see our best vessels given to
such things as that! Oh, hang it, I shall be saying what I shall be
sorry for if I go on like this. Come and have a walk. No; I'll go to
the Admiralty, and see if I can get a hearing there. If I can't--if
they will not help me to place my boy in the service which all the
Beltons have followed for a hundred and fifty years, I'll--There, come
along, boy, the world is not perfect."
He walked sharply down into the Strand and then on to Whitehall, where
he turned into the Admiralty Yard, and sent in his card to one of the
chief officials, who kept him waiting two hours, during which the
captain fumed to see quite a couple of score naval officers go in and
return, while he was passed over.
"Here you see an epitome of my life during the past fifteen years, Syd,"
he said, bitterly. "Always passed over and--"
"His lordship will see you now, if you please," said an official.
"Hah! pretty well time," muttered the captain. "Come along, Syd."
They followed the clerk along a gloomy passage, and were shown into a
dark room where a fierce-looking old gentleman in powder and queue sat
writing, but who laid down his pen and rose as Captain Belton's name was
announced; shook hands cordially, and then placed his hands upon his
visitor's shoulders and forced him into an easy-chair.
"Sit down, Harry Belton, sit down," he cried. "Sorry to keep you
waiting, but wanted to get rid of all my petitioners and visitors, so as
to be free for a long talk. Why, I haven't seen you or heard of you
these ten years."
"Not for want of my applying for employment, my lord," said Captain
Belton, stiffly.
"But then I've not been in office, my dear Belton; and, hang it, man,
don't `my lord' me. And who's this?"
"My son, my lord," said the captain.
"Don't `my lord' me, man!" cried the old gentleman, fiercely. "You
always were a proud, stubborn fellow. And so this is your son, is it?"
he continued, peering searchingly in the boy's face. "Ah! chip of the
old block; stubborn one too, I can see. Shake hands, sir. Now then,
what are you going to be?"
"A sailor, sir--my lord, I mean."
"Don't correct yourself, boy. A sailor, eh? Like your father and
grandfather before you, eh? Good; can't do better. I wish you luck, my
lad. We want a school of lads of your class. The navy's full of
milksops, and dandies, and fellows who have got their promotion by
favour, while men like your father, who have done good service and ought
to be doing it now, instead of idling about as country gentlemen--"
"Not my fault," cried the captain, hotly. "I've begged for employment
till I've grown savage, and sworn I would appeal no more."
"Hah! yes," said the old gentleman, sitting back in his chair, and
holding Syd's hand still in his; "there's a deal of favour and interest
in these days, my dear Belton. John Bull's ships ought to be commanded
by the best men in the navy, but they're not; and those of us who would
like to do away with all the corruption, can't stir. Never mind that
now. Let's talk of Admiral Tom. How is the dear old boy?"
"Like I am--growing old and worn with disappointment."
"Nonsense, Belton; nonsense. We can't shape our own lives. Better make
the best of things as they are. Well, my boy, what ship have you
joined?"
"None, sir--yet."
"I came up to see Dashleigh, on the strength of his having been under my
brother, and asked him to take my son."
"And he wouldn't, of course," said the old gentleman, more fiercely
still. "Wrong man, my dear sir. Ladder kicker. And so, young sir, you
haven't got a ship?"
"No; and if you could help me, my lord--"
"If you call me my lord again, Harry Belton, I won't stir a peg.--Do you
know, boy, that I was once in command of a small sloop, and your father
was my first officer? I say, Belton, remember those old days?"
"Ay, I do," said the captain, with his eyes lighting up.
"Remember cutting out the Spaniard at Porto Bello?"
"Yes; and the fight with the big vessel in the Gut."
"Ah, to be sure. How we made the splinters fly! Bad luck that was for
those other two to come up. Rare games we had, my boy. We must get you
a ship under some good captain."
"If you could do that for me," said Captain Belton, eagerly.
"Well, I can try and serve an old friend, even if he is a lazy one who
likes to be in dock instead of being at sea. By the way, Belton, how
old are you?"
"Fifty-eight."
"Ah, and I'm seventy. Plenty of work in me yet, though. There, I'll
bear my young friend here in mind. Come and dine with me one day next
week, Belton, for I must send you off now; you've had half an hour
instead of five minutes. Say Monday--Tuesday."
"Thank you, no," said the captain, rising. "I've done all I can, and
will get back home."
"Bah! You're a bad courtier, Belton. Stubborn as ever. You ought to
hang about here, and sneak and fawn upon me, and jump at the chance of
dining with me, in the hope that I might be able to help you."
"Yes, my lord, I suppose so," said the captain, sadly; "but if the
country wants my services it will have to seek me now. I'm growing too
old to beg for what is my right."
"And meanwhile our ships are badly handled and go to the bottom, which
would be a good thing if only their inefficient captains were drowned;
but it's their crews as well. There, good-bye, Belton. Don't come to
town again without calling on me. I'll try and serve your boy. One
moment--where are you? Oh yes, I see; I have your card. Good-bye,
middy. Remember me to the admiral."
The fierce-looking old gentleman saw them to the door, and soon after
father and son were on their way back to the hotel, and the next morning
on the Southbayton coach.
"Ah, Sydney, lad," said the captain, "we shall have to bind you
'prentice to a 'pothecary, after all."
"But Lord Claudene said he would try and serve you about me, father; and
I should be disappointed if I didn't go to sea now."
"Indeed?" said the captain, laughing. "You will have to bear the
disappointment. There are hundreds constantly applying at the
Admiralty."
"Yes, father, but you are a friend."
"Yes, my boy, I am a friend; and yet what I want I should have to be
waiting about for years, and then perhaps not succeed."