Little Virginia, still terrified, had crept up to her mother. I, on the contrary, felt the highest respect for one who could dare to punish my mother, who had so often punished me; and the knowledge that he was my father inspired me with a feeling of tenderness toward him which I could not repress. I was old enough to understand why my mother had received such treatment, and I could not feel angry with my father; I therefore stayed below, and went for the porter as was required. I believe that at first it had been my father's intentions to have administered a much severer castigation to my mother, and then to have left the house, taking me with him, for he had not been apprised of the birth of Virginia; but whatever were his intentions before he came, or for the morrow, it is certain that he continued to smoke and talk with old Ben the Whaler till a very late hour, while I sat by and listened. CHAPTER SIX A bright pleasant Evening after a Squall, in which the Art of Angling is introduced in a way which would have added to the Knowledge of Izaac Walton himself. "I beg pardon, messmate," said Ben, as he and my father became more sociable; "but may I make so bold as to ask you how you contrived to get that seam across your figure-head? You did say something about a Frenchman, if I heard right; and as the war is now of two years' standing, I suppose you've had a rap or two at Mounseer." "'Xpect I have," replied my father. "Well, old chap, I'll just wet my whistle, and then I'll tell you all about it, and it won't take long, neither. The boats were ordered away--" "Of what ship, messmate?" "Very true, I began in the middle. Well, it was in the ship I now belongs to, the 'Oudacious'--we were with the squadron off Ferrol; signal made to chase southeast--clapped every stitch on her after two gun-boats who were running down in-shore. Light winds--got well in for the land, and then it fell calm. Gun-boats four miles off using their sweeps--our boats in chase--I was coxswain of the first pinnace--a devilish fast boat, messmate, I can tell you, with a smart brass gun--pulled two feet to their one, and came up with them hand-over-hand--both cutters and the other pinnace well up with us--the old launch half a mile astern. Now you see, sir, I've got the picture for you, haven't I?" "Just exactly," replied old Ben. "Well, then, it was a long pull; and that reminds me that I'll have a long pull now, so hand me the porter, messmate." My father took a tremendous long pull at the pewter, and then handing it to Ben, he recommenced: