Captain Bradshaw was astonished. "I say, youngster, did Captain M--- ever flog you?" "No, sir," replied Jerry, demurely, perceiving that he had gone too far; "he always treats his officers like gentlemen." "Then, I presume, sir, when they are on board of his ship, that they conduct themselves as gentlemen." This hint made Jerry dumb for some time; the officers, however, continued as before. The surgeon dropped his plate, full of damascene tart, on the deck. The first-lieutenant spilt his snuff on the table-cloth, and laid his snuff-box on the table, which he knew to be the captain's aversion; and the master requested a glass of grog, as the rotgut French wines had given him a pain in the bowels. Captain Bradshaw could hardly retain his seat upon the chair, upon which he fidgeted right and left. He perceived that his officers were behaving in a very unusual manner, and that it was with a view to his annoyance: yet it was impossible for him to take notice of breaking glasses, and finding fault with the cookery, which they took care to do, sending their plates away before they had eaten a mouthful, with apparent disgust; neither could he demand a court-martial for awkwardness or want of good manners at his own table. He began to think that he had better have left out the "_every day until further orders_," in the memorandum, as rescinding it immediately would have been an acknowledgment of their having gained the victory; and as to their going on in this way, to put up with it was impossible. The dinner was over, and the dessert placed on the table. Captain Bradshaw passed the bottles round, helping himself to Madeira. Roberts took claret, and as soon as he had tasted it, "I beg your pardon, Captain Bradshaw," said he, "but this wine is corked." "Indeed--take it away, steward, and bring another bottle." Another was put on the table. "I hope you will find that better, Mr Roberts," said the captain, who really thought that what he stated had been the case. "Yes," replied the first-lieutenant; "for the description of wine, it's well enough." "What do you mean, sir? Why, its Chateau Margaux of the first growth." "Excuse me, sir," replied the officer, with an incredulous smile; "they must have imposed upon you." Captain Bradshaw, who was an excellent judge of wine, called for a glass, and pouring out the claret, tasted it. "I must differ from you, sir; and, moreover, I have no better." "Then I'll trouble you to pass the port, doctor, for I really cannot drink that stuff." "Do you drink port, Mr Bradly?" said the captain, with a countenance as black as a thunder-cloud. "No, not to-day; I am not well in my inside: but I'll punish the port to-morrow." "So will I," said the surgeon. "And as I am not among the privileged," added Jerry, who had already forgotten the hint, "I'll take my whack to-day." "Perhaps you may," observed the captain, drily.