"You cannot do better, my dear Jack," said mother, putting one of her arms round my neck caressingly, and stretching out her other hand to take Dad's. "Your father was always known in the service as a gallant officer and an honourable gentleman; and if you follow his example, my boy, you will neither disgrace the name you bear nor do discredit to Her Majesty's uniform! I look forwards, Jack, to your being a credit, not only to us, but to your country and profession!" I uttered no reply to my mother's little speech, though it made a deep impression on me, for she was seldom given to expressing herself at such length, her words being generally few and to the point; but, I formed there and then a resolve, which I have endeavoured to adhere to all my life, that I would never do anything to make her ashamed of me, nor cause pain to her and Dad, the latter of whom remained silent like myself. He was thinking, I felt sure, of the approaching parting between us, when I should be beyond his care and only have to trust to the training he had given me. He knew, however, that I would still be under the watchful eye of another Father, who guards and guides the sailor afloat amidst the stormy waters of the deep as well as the landsman ashore, and whose love and forethought are more to be trusted even than that of our earthly parents, prize us as dearly as they will. On the following morning, to make a long story short, I bade adieu to Dad and mother, both of them accompanying me to the landing steps at the foot of Hardway to see me off in the waterman's wherry that Dad hailed for the conveyance of myself and sea-chest to the _Illustrious_. She was lying in the stream near the mouth of the harbour, as I mentioned I believe before when speaking of my first view of Portsmouth; and as the tide was then at the ebb and running out fast, we were very soon alongside the training-ship, whose huge, black hull glistened in the bright sunshine. There was a little chap standing by the marine sentry at the entry port on the main deck, where I noticed as I went up the accommodation ladder a little chap only about my own age, but looking as "cocksy" as you please. He was dressed in a similarly smart new uniform to my own, and his face, somehow or other, seemed familiar to me. I could see, too, that he looked as if he recognised me in some sort of way, or was anxious to make my acquaintance. "Hullo!" he cried, as I gained the deck and returned, with much conscious dignity, the marine's salute, "why, you're the fellow who nearly got stranded in Euclid!" This remark of his brought back to my mind in an instant the scene in the examination room on board the gunnery ship, and I identified him in an instant, giving him a "Roland" for his "Oliver."