“Gentlemen,” the captain began, weighing his words, “Mr. Perry, in deliberately disobeying the order of his senior officer, helped to save an unfortunate man from certain death;” the captain hesitated and shifted his gaze to Lazar. “If it had not been for the masterful manner in which the officer of the deck, Mr. Lazar, handled the ship, placing her between the helpless boat and the force of the seas, eight more men would have been sacrificed.” Then turning to Phil and addressing him directly: “It was Mr. Lazar’s high sense of duty that compelled him to report your disobedience. What have you to say, sir?” Phil was silent. The captain thrummed on the table, as if impatient for an answer. Lazar fidgeted uneasily in his chair, no doubt wondering what defense the boy would advance. “I have nothing to say, sir,” began Phil in a low voice. “I committed a grave error, sir. I have steered life-boats before, but the sea was greater than I realized.” He stopped and glanced up in embarrassment at the captain. “I am afraid, sir, I would do the same again, sir.” “Well spoken, lad,” cried the captain delightedly. He had prepared himself for an excuse, so this straightforward acknowledgment was extremely gratifying to the blunt sailor. “Bless you, boy, you gave me a few new white hairs as I watched your boat. I never thought to see any of that crew again, but all’s well that ends well, eh, Lazar?” he asked, turning suddenly on the ensign. “I feel I have done my duty, sir; the verdict rests with you,” answered he, in a strained voice, in which Phil thought he read disappointment. The captain became grave, apparently noting the attitude of the claimant. “That is all, Mr. Lazar,” he said in a changed voice. “You may withdraw.” As the door closed on the ensign, the captain’s face again assumed a kindly expression. “Mr. Perry, I cannot find heart to punish you for this,” he spoke earnestly. “You were too impulsive and it might have turned out disastrously, nevertheless it became you well. You have shown that you are made of the right stuff; now let me see you fashion it into the officer that you are capable of becoming.” Reaching out his hand he took up Phil’s sword, and as he returned it to him, said: “Remember, obedience is your first duty.” “What did I tell you?” Sydney cried, shaking Phil’s hand a moment later, as he returned with his sword. Then in an anxious voice: “I don’t like Lazar’s attitude. He came out of the cabin a minute ago looking like a thunder-cloud. He apparently was not pleased at the captain’s decision.” “He may dislike me,” Phil answered charitably, as they entered their own room, “but I believe so far he has treated me as he would have any of us midshipmen.” The life-boat incident raised Phil to a high place in the opinions of most officers of the ship, and the men were all devoted to him. He was their favorite midshipman after that.