Frank Mildmay; Or, the Naval OfficerMarryat, Frederick
History
Frank Mildmay; Or, the Naval Officer
Marryat, Frederick
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Officers -- Fiction; Sea stories
I agreed to this. "But," said I, "as the war with France is now over,
and that with America will be terminated no doubt very shortly, I have
no wish to put you to the expense, or myself to the trouble, of fitting
out a sloop of war in time of peace, to be a pleasure-yacht for great
lords and ladies, and myself to be neither more nor less than a _maitre
d'hotel_: and, after having spent your money and mine, and exhausted all
my civilities, to receive no thanks, and hear that I am esteemed at
Almack's only `a tolerable sea-brute enough.' A ship, therefore,"
continued I, "I will not have; and as I think the Continent holds out
some novelty at least, I will, with your consent, set off."
This point being settled, I told Clara of it. The poor girl's grief was
immoderate. "My dearest brother, I shall lose you, and be left alone in
the world. Your impetuous and unruly heart is not in a state to be
trusted among the gay and frivolous French. You will be at sea without
your compass--you have thrown religion overboard--and what is to guide
you in the hour of trial?"
"Fear not, dear Clara," said I; "my own energies will always extricate
me from the dangers you apprehend."
"Alas! it is these very energies which I dread," said Clara; "but I
trust that all will be for the best. Accept," said she, "of this little
book from poor broken-hearted Clara; and, if you love her, look at it
sometimes."
I took the book, and, embracing her affectionately, assured her that for
her sake I would read it.
When I had completed my arrangements for my foreign tour, I determined
to take one last look at --- Hall before I left England. I set off
unknown to my family, and contrived to be near the boundaries of the
park by dusk. I desired the post-boy to stop half a mile from the
house, and to wait my return. I cleared the paling; and, avoiding the
direct road, came up to the house. The room usually occupied by the
family was on the ground-floor, and I cautiously approached the window.
Mr Somerville and Emily were both there. He was reading aloud; she sat
at a table with a book before her: but her thoughts, it was evident,
were not there; she had inserted her taper fingers into the ringlets of
her hair, until the palms of her hand reached her forehead; then,
bending her head towards the table, she leaned on her elbows, and seemed
absorbed in the most melancholy reflections.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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