Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 18th century -- Fiction; Nore Mutiny, 1797 -- Fiction
McElvina had also cleansed himself from the gore with which he had been
begrimed, and having applied to the surgeon to assuage the pain of a
severe cut which he had received on his shoulder, came upon the
quarter-deck with his arm in a sling, dressed with his usual precision
and neatness. He touched his hat to Captain M---, with whom he had not
communicated since he had quitted him on the quarter-deck of the French
frigate, to create the fortunate diversion in favour of the boarders.
"Captain McElvina," said Captain M---, taking his hand, and shaking it
warmly, "I can hardly express how much I am obliged to you for your
conduct this day. You may be assured that, upon my return, I shall not
fail to make a proper representation of it to Government. I only wish
that there was any situation in my ship that could induce you to
remain."
"Thank you, Captain M---," replied McElvina, smiling; "but, although on
a smaller scale, I have long been accustomed to command; and I should be
very sorry that a vacancy should occur in the only situation I would
accept."
"I expected an answer to that effect," replied Captain M---. "However,
you have this day nobly redeemed your character, and silenced any
imputations of hostility to your country that might be thrown upon you
in consequence of your late employment; and I sincerely congratulate
you."
"Captain M---, as you are kind enough to express friendly feelings
towards me, may I request that they may be shown by the interest you
take in young Seymour? I cannot but approve his following the
honourable career marked out for him; and my regret at parting with one
who has so entwined himself round my heart will be considerably lessened
by the assurance that you will be his friend and protector. Any
expenses--"
"Not one word upon that score," replied Captain M---; "the boy saved my
life this day by his unusual presence of mind, and I shall watch over
him as if he were my own child."
"His education?"
"Shall be attended to. I pledge you my honour to do him every justice."
McElvina bowed and walked away to the other side of the quarter-deck;
the idea of parting with Willy was always painful to him, and, weak with
the loss of blood, he was afraid that the emotion would be perceived,
which he now felt less able to control.
Thus it is with proud man. He struggles to conceal effects arising from
feeling which do honour to his nature; but feels no shame when he
disgraces himself by allowing his passions to get the better of his
reason--and all because he would not be thought _womanish_! I'm
particularly fond of crying myself.
The list of killed and wounded was brought up by the second-lieutenant
(the duty of the first, who was in charge of the prize, having devolved
upon him)--the former having been ascertained by mustering the ship's
company, the latter from the report of the surgeon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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