University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.

The reader will guess what followed. I fell deeply
in love with Clara Maitland, to whom I confided
the secret of my birth. The generous girl asserted
that she had detected the superiority of my manner
at once. We plighted our troth, and resolved to
wait upon events.

Briggs called to see me a few days afterward. He
said that the purser had insulted the whole cockpit,
and all the midshipmen had called him out.
But he added thoughtfully: “I don't see how we
can arrange the duel. You see there are six of us
to fight him.”

“Very easily,” I replied. “Let your fellows all
stand in a row, and take his fire; that, you see, gives
him six chances to one, and he must be a bad shot
if he can't hit one of you; while, on the other hand,
you see, he gets a volley from you six, and one of
you'll be certain to fetch him.”

“Exactly;” and away Briggs went, but soon returned
to say that the purser had declined—“like a
d—d coward,” he added.

But the news of the sudden and serious illness of
Captain Boltrope put off the duel. I hastened to his

bedside, but too late—an hour previous he had given
up the ghost.

I resolved to return to England. I made known
the secret of my birth, and exhibited my adopted
father's letter to Lady Maitland, who at once suggested
my marriage with her daughter, before I returned
to claim the property. We were married,
and took our departure next day.

I made no delay in posting at once, in company
with my wife and my friend Briggs, to my native
village. Judge of my horror and surprise when my
late adopted father came out of his shop to welcome
me.

“Then you are not dead!” I gasped.

“No, my dear boy.”

“And this letter?”

My father—as I must still call him—glanced on
the paper, and pronounced it a forgery. Briggs
roared with laughter. I turned to him and demanded
an explanation.

“Why, don't you see, Greeny, it's all a joke—a
midshipman's joke!”

“But—” I asked.

“Don't be a fool. You've got a good wife—be
satisfied.”

I turned to Clara, and was satisfied. Although
Mrs. Maitland never forgave me, the jolly old Governor
laughed heartily over the joke, and so well
used his influence that I soon became, dear reader,
Admiral Breezy, K. C. B.