“This Spanish ship that Captain Walsingham captured the day after the engagement is likely to turn out a valuable prize, too,” said Mrs. Beaumont. “I am vastly glad to find this by his letter, for the money will be useful to him, he wanted it so much. He does not say how much his share will come to, does he, Edward?” “No, ma’am: you see he writes in a great hurry, and he has only time, as he says, to mention _the needful_.” “And is not the money _the needful?_” said Sir John Hunter, with a splenetic smile. “With Walsingham it is only a secondary consideration,” replied Beaumont; “honour is Captain Walsingham’s first object. I dare say he has never yet calculated what his prize-money will be.” “Right, right!” reiterated Mr. Palmer; “then he is the right sort. Long may it be before our naval officers think more of prize-money than of glory! Long may it be before our honest tars turn into calculating pirates!” “They never will or can whilst they have such officers as Captain Walsingham,” said Beaumont. “By St. George, he seems to be a fine fellow, and you a warm friend,” said Mr. Palmer. “Ay, ay, the colonel’s own son. But why have I never seen any of these Walsinghams since I came to the country? Are they ashamed of being related to me, because I am a merchant?” “More likely they are too proud to pay court to you because you are so rich,” said Mr. Beaumont. “But they did come to see you, sir,--the morning you were out so late, mother, you know.” “Oh, ay, true--how unfortunate!” “But have not we horses? have not we carriages? have not we legs?” said Mr. Palmer. “I’ll go and see these Walsinghams to-morrow, please God I live so long: for I am proud of my relationship to this young hero; and I won’t be cast off by good people, let them be as proud as they will--that’s their fault--but I will not stand on idle ceremony: so, my good Mistress Beaumont, we will all go in a body, and storm their castle to-morrow morning.” “An admirable plan! I like it of all things!” said Mrs. Beaumont. “How few, even in youth, are so active and enthusiastic as our good friend! But, my dear Mr. Palmer--” “But I wish I could see the captain himself. Is there any chance of his coming home?” “Home! yes,” said Beaumont: “did you not read his letter, sir? here it is; he will be at home directly. He says, ‘perhaps a few hours after this letter reaches you, you’ll see me.’” “See him! Odds my life, I’m glad of it. And you, my little Amelia,” said Mr. Palmer, tapping her shoulders as she stood with her back to him reading the newspaper; “and you, my little silent one, not one word have I heard from you all this time. Does not some spark of your father’s spirit kindle within you on hearing of this heroic relation of ours?”