After matters were a little set to rights on deck, and the officers had assembled round their gallant Captain, to congratulate him on the retreat of the enemy, Sir Henry Stanley ordered the young mutineer to be brought before him. Philip made his appearance, pale and bleeding, but with a determined countenance. "Young man," said Sir Henry, "you have done your duty to-day. I have to thank you for twice saving the life of my friend, Lieutenant Cary: he speaks highly of your conduct in boarding. Your offences are forgiven--you may return to your duty; and, I hope, from this day, your conduct will be as remarkable for obedience, as it has before been the reverse." Philip raised his eyes to his commander's face, and reading there an expression of manly pity and candour, he was so completely softened by conduct which he little expected from Lord Robert's uncle, that he said, with tears, he had acted wrong, and would spend his best blood, or even his life, if required, to amend his fault. "Then," said Sir Henry, "ask pardon of Lord Robert Summers for the outrage you have committed, and all will be well, if you persevere in your good resolutions." "I will ask _your_ pardon, Sir Henry, on my knees, for having rebelled against so good and gracious a commander, and for having struck one of _your_ officers; but I cannot ask forgiveness of Lord Robert Summers, since he was the first to injure me, long before I saw this ship." Lord Robert, who stood by his uncle's side, gave him a disdainful look; Philip's eyes answered scorn with scorn. "No conditions, sir!" said his captain; "they don't become you. But pray how has my nephew injured you?" "Lord Robert can inform you," said Philip. "I perceive," said Sir Henry, "there has been some misunderstanding between you and my nephew, before you came on board the Diomede; but this is no excuse for your uniformly rebellious conduct. Had you done your duty as a British sailor, you would have met with encouragement and mild treatment. My nephew, dear as he is to me, could not have influenced me to commit an act of injustice against any individual of my ship's company. Go, and get your hurts examined; and let me have reason to praise your future conduct." Philip bowed to his commander with gratitude and respect, and retired. It is certain that "misfortunes never come alone." Scarcely had the convoy re-assembled, and the Diomede repaired some of the injuries she had sustained in the action, when a furious gale sprang up, and threatened the most mischievous consequences to the ship, in her shattered condition.