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
Had the East-Indian followed up his act by the application of a little
discipline at the fountain-head, it is more than probable that a popular
commotion, not unlike that of Masaniello, would have ensued; but the
time was not come--the Indian showed a white feather, was laughed at,
flogged, and sent home to his friends, who had intended him for the bar;
but foreseeing that he might, in the course of events, chance to cut a
figure on the wrong side of it, sent him to sea, where his valour, if he
had any, would find more profitable employment.
This unsuccessful attempt of the young Oriental was the primary cause of
all my fame and celebrity in after-life. I had always hated school; and
this, of all others, seemed [seem] to me the most hateful. The
emancipation of Johnny Pagoda convinced me that my deliverance might be
effected in a similar manner. The train was laid, and a spark set it on
fire. This spark was supplied by the folly and vanity of a fat French
dancing-master. These Frenchmen are ever at the bottom of mischief.
Mrs Higginbottom, the master's wife, had denounced me to Monsieur
Aristide Maugrebleu as a _mauvais sujet_; and as he was a creature of
hers, he frequently annoyed me to gratify his patroness. This fellow
was at that time about forty-five years of age, and had much more
experience than agility, having greatly increased his bulk by the roast
beef and ale of England. While he taught us the rigadoons of his own
country, his vanity induced him to attempt feats much above the cumbrous
weight of his frame. I entered the lists with him, beat him at his own
trade, and he beat me with his fiddlestick, which broke in two over my
head; then, making one more glorious effort to show that he would not be
outdone, snapped the tendon Achilles, and down he fell, _hors de combat_
as a dancing-master. He was taken away in his gig to be cured, and I
was taken into the school-room to be flogged.
This I thought so unjust that I ran away. Tom Crauford helped me to
scale the wall; and when he supposed I had got far enough to be out of
danger from pursuit, went and gave information, to avoid the suspicion
of having aided and abetted. After running a mile, to use a sea phrase,
I hove-to, and began to compose, in my mind, an oration which I intended
to pronounce before my father, by way of apology for my sudden and
unexpected appearance; but I was interrupted by the detested usher and
half a dozen of the senior boys, among whom was Tom Crauford. Coming
behind me as I sat on a stile, they cut short my meditations by a tap on
the shoulder, collared and marched me to the right about in double quick
time. Tom Crauford was one of those who held me, and outdid himself in
zealous invective at my base ingratitude in absconding from the best of
masters, and the most affectionate, tender, and motherly of all
school-dames.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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