fall, the captain had looked her full in the face and recognised her, and, in a low voice, said, “Excessively strange—so very unexpected!” He then rose up from the chair and followed my mother into the back room.
“Who can it be?” said Aunt Milly to Captain Bridgeman, in a low tone.
“I suppose it must be the new captain appointed to the Calliope. I read his name in the papers—the Honourable Captain Delmar.”
“It must be him,” replied Milly; “for my sister was brought up by his aunt, Mrs. Delmar; no wonder she was surprised at meeting him so suddenly. Percival, you naughty boy,” continued Milly, shaking her finger at me, “it was all your doing.”
“Oh, Aunt Milly! you should have seen him run,” replied I, laughing at the thought.
“I’d recommend you not to play with post captains,” said Captain Bridgeman, “or you may get worse than you give. Mercy on us!” exclaimed he, looking at me full in the face.
“What’s the matter?” said aunt Milly.
Captain Bridgeman leant over the counter, and I heard him whisper, “Did you ever see such a likeness as between the lad and Captain Delmar?”
Milly blushed a little, nodded her head, and smiled, as she turned away. Captain Bridgeman appeared to be afterwards in a brown study; he tapped his boot with his cane, and did not speak.
About a quarter of an hour passed, during which Captain Delmar remained with my mother in the parlour, when she opened the door, and beckoned me to come in. I did so not without some degree of anxiety, for I was afraid that I had been discovered: but this doubt was soon removed; Captain Delmar did me the honour to shake hands with me, and then patted my head saying, he hoped I was a good boy, which, being compelled to be my own trumpeter, I very modestly declared that I was. My mother, who was standing up behind, lifted up her eyes at my barefaced assertion. Captain Delmar then shook hands with my mother, intimating his intention of paying her another visit very soon, and again patting me on the head, quitted the parlour, and went away through the shop.
As soon as Captain Delmar was gone, my mother turned round, and said, “You naughty, mischievous boy, to play such pranks. I’ll have that dog killed, without you promise me never to do so again.”
“Do what again, mother?”
“None of your pretended innocence with me. I’ve been told of the pigtail that Bob pulls at. That’s all very well at the barracks with the marines, sir, but do you know who it is that you have been playing that trick to?”
“No mother, I don’t. Who is he?”
“Who is he, you undutiful child? why, he’s—he’s the Honourable Captain Delmar.”
“Well, what of that?” replied I. “He’s a naval captain, ain’t he?”
“Yes; but he’s the nephew of the lady who brought me up and educated me. It was he that made the match between me and our father: so if it had not been for him, child, you never would have been born.”
“Oh that’s it,” replied I. “Well, mother, if it had not been for me, he’d never have come into the shop, and found you.”
“But, my child, we must be serious; you must be very respectful to Captain Delmar, and play no tricks with him; for you may see him very often, and, perhaps, he will take a fancy to you; and if he does, he may do you a great deal of good, and bring you forward in the world; so promise me.”
“Well, mother, I’ll promise you I’ll leave him alone if you wish it. Law, mother, you should have seen how the middy laughed at him; it was real fun to make a gallant captain run in the way he did.”
“Go along, you mischievous animal, and recollect your promise to me,” said my mother, as she went into the shop where she found that Captain Bridgeman, to whom she intended to explain how it was that she had dropped the tumbler of water, had gone away.
There was a great deal of consultation between my grandmother and my mother on that evening; my aunt and I were sent out to to take a walk, that we might not overhear what passed, and when we returned we found them still in close conversation.
Chapter Eleven.
The Honourable Captain Delmar was now a frequent visitor to my mother, and a good customer to the library. He did, however, generally contrive that his visit should be paid late in the afternoon, just after the marine officers had retired to dress for dinner; for he was a very haughty personage, and did not think it proper for any officers of an inferior grade to come “between the wind and his nobility.”
I cannot say that I was partial to him; indeed, his pomposity, as I considered it, was to me a source of ridicule and dislike. He took more notice of me than he did of anybody else; but he appeared to consider that his condescending patronage was all that was necessary; whereas, had he occasionally given me a half-crown I should have cherished better feelings towards him: not that I wanted money, for my mother supplied me very liberally, considering my age: but although you may coax and flatter a girl into loving you, you cannot a boy, who requires more substantial proofs of your good-will.
There were a great many remarks not very flattering to my mother, made behind her back, as to her former intimacy with Captain Delmar; for, somehow or another, there always is somebody who knows something, wherever doubts or surmises arise, and so it was in this case; but if people indulged in ill-natured remarks when she was not there, they did not in her presence; on the contrary, the friendship of so great a man as the Honourable Captain Delmar appeared rather to make my mother a person of more consequence.
She was continually pointing out to me the propriety of securing the good will of this great personage, and the more she did so, the more I felt inclined to do the reverse; indeed, I should have broke out into open mutiny, if it had not been for Captain Bridgeman, who sided with my mother, and when I went to him to propose playing another trick upon the noble captain, not only refused to aid me, but told me, if I ever thought of such a thing, he would never allow me to come to his rooms again.
“Why, what good can he do to me?” inquired I.
“He may advance you properly in life—who knows?—he may put you on the quarter-deck, and get you promoted in the service.”
“What, make a middy of me?”
“Yes, and from a midshipman you may rise to be a post-captain, or admiral—a much greater rank than I shall ever obtain,” said Captain Bridgeman; “so take my advice, and do as your mother wishes; be very civil and respectful to Captain Delmar, and he may be as good as a father to you.”
“That’s not saying much,” replied I, thinking of my father Ben; “I’d rather have two mothers than two fathers.” And here the conversation ended.
I had contracted a great alliance with Mr. Dott, the midshipman, who followed Captain Delmar about, just as Bob used to follow me, and generally remained in the shop or outside with me, when his captain called upon my mother. He was a little wag, as full of mischief as myself, and even his awe of his captain, which, as a youngster in the service, was excessive, would not prevent him from occasionally breaking out. My mother
