Syd Belton - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"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 s.h.i.+ps 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."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
"What!" cried Sir Thomas, when he heard the adventures in town, "you mean to tell me that Dashleigh treated you as you say?"
"Exactly," replied his brother.
"My face show the marks much now?"
"No; hardly at all."
"Then we'll go up to town to-morrow."
"What for, Tom?" said the captain. "You'll do no better than I did."
"I'm not going to try, Harry," said the old gentleman, fiercely.
"Then why go? You are comfortable here."
"I'm going up to horsewhip that contemptible little scoundrel Dashleigh, and fight him afterwards, though he's hardly gentleman enough."
"Nonsense, Tom!"
"Nonsense? Why I made that fellow--and pretty waste of time too! And now he's in command of a seventy-four, and you may go begging for a word to get your boy into the mids.h.i.+pmen's berth."
Uncle Tom did not go up to town to horsewhip or fight.
"Never mind," he said, "he's sure to run his s.h.i.+p on the rocks, or get thrashed--a scoundrel! Here, Syd, take my advice."
"What is it, uncle?"
"Never do any one a kind action as long as you live."
"You don't mean it, uncle."
"What, sir? No, I don't: you're right."
A week pa.s.sed, during which Barney suggested that the proper thing for Captain Belton to do was to purchase some well-built merchant schooner, and fit her out as a privateer.
"I could soon get together as smart a crew as you'd care to have, and then there'd be a chance for your son to get to be a leefftenant 'fore you knew where you were."
But Captain Belton only laughed, and matters at the Heronry remained as they were, till one day with the other letters there came one that was big and official, and its effect upon the two old officers was striking.
"From the Admiralty, Tom," said the captain, as he glanced at the great seal, and then began to take out his knife to slit open the fold.
"I can see that," said the admiral. "It's from Claudene. Syd, lad, you're in luck. He has got you appointed to a s.h.i.+p, after all."
"Bless my soul!" cried the captain, dropping the great missive on the table.
"What is it, my lad?--what is it?" cried Sir Thomas.
"Read--read," cried Captain Belton, huskily--"it's too good to believe."
Sir Thomas s.n.a.t.c.hed up the official letter, cast his eyes over it, and then, forgetting his gout, caught hold of Syd's hands and began to caper about the room like a maniac.
"Hurrah! Bravo, Harry, my lad. I've often grumbled; but I avow it--I am past service, gouty as I am; but you were never more seaworthy."
"Uncle, why don't you speak?" cried Sydney, excitedly. "Has father got a s.h.i.+p?"
"Got a s.h.i.+p, my lad? He's appointed to one of the smartest in the navy--the _Sirius_ frigate, and she's ordered abroad."
Captain Belton drew himself up, and his eyes flashed as in imagination he saw himself treading once more the quarter-deck of a smart s.h.i.+p.
"It's too good to believe," he muttered--"too good to believe."
"You haven't read the letter," said his brother, looking wistfully across to the tall, eager-looking man before him.
"No," said Captain Belton. "Hah! from Claudene,"--and he read aloud:--
"My dear Belton, I have managed this for you, and I'm very glad, for you will do us credit. The appointment will clear away the difficulty about your boy, for you can have him in your own s.h.i.+p, and keep the young dog under your eye. My good wishes to you, and kind regards to your brother. Tell him I wish I could serve him as well, but I can't see my way."
"Of course he can't," said the old admiral, quickly. "No; I'm too old and gouty now. But as for you, you dog, why don't you stand on your head, or shout, or something? Here, I am well enough to go up to town after all. Syd and I are going to see about his uniform. The _Sirius_--well, you two have luck at last. Here, hi! you, sir! Put down that confounded birch-broom, and come here."
Uncle Tom had caught sight of Barney at the bottom of the lawn sweeping leaves into a heap for his son to lift them between two boards into the waiting barrow.
As Barney looked up and saw the admiral signalling from the window, he came across the lawn at a trot, dragging the broom after him.
"Drop that broom and salute your officer, you confounded old barnacle!"
roared the old gentleman. "Salute, sir, salute: your master's appointed to the smartest frigate in the service."
Barney struck an att.i.tude, sent his old c.o.c.ked hat spinning into the air, and then catching it, tucked it under his arm, and pulled his imaginary forelock over and over again.