"Commodore--Sir Oliver," said Sprawl, deeply stung; "by Heaven, Sir Oliver, you will make me forget who I am, and where I am. You do _me_, you do Mr Lanyard, and the whole of the party engaged, exceeding injustice--the grossest injustice; but I will leave the cabin; I dare not trust myself any longer. I have served with you, Sir Oliver, for seven years, in three different ships, and, to my knowledge, we have never, until this moment, had an angry word together"--and here the noble fellow drew himself up proudly--"and I will yet put it to you yourself, when you _are_ yourself, whether in all that time you ever knew me failing in my duty to my king and country--whether, during the whole seven years, you, sir--ay, or any man in the ships we have served in together--can now lay, or ever attempted to lay, any action or deed at my door derogatory to my character as an officer, or that in any the smallest degree sullied my reputation as a gentleman." This unlooked-for spunk on old Davie's part startled me, and evidently made a strong impression on the excited nerves of the old commodore; especially as Sprawl followed it up, by slowly adding, while the tears hopped over his iron visage--"But, if it is to be so, I will save you the trouble, Sir Oliver, of _bringing_ me to a court-martial"--he paused for a good space--"Sir Oliver Oakplank, I _demand_ it." The commodore had by this lain down again on the sofa, with his head resting on the pillow, and his arms clasped on his breast, as if he had been an effigy on a tombstone. For a minute he did not utter a word--at length--"David Sprawl, man and boy, I have known you five-and-twenty years; that your promotion has not kept pace with your merits I regret, almost as much as you yourself can do; but, in the present instance, you knew I had been ill, and at your hands I had expected more"---- "I could not help it, Sir Oliver--I had looked for other things; but mine has been a life of disappointment." Sir Oliver rallied, and rose, ill as he was, and, stepping up to him, he laid hold of old Bloody Politeful's large bony hand--"Mr Sprawl, I--I beg pardon--illness and anxiety, as I said before, have broke me down; to you and Mr Lanyard I offer my apology; as brave men I know you won't refuse it; bad health is my excuse;--but neither of you can imagine the ties that bound me to that beautiful--that most excellent young man, Henry De Walden."