Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
no doubt about that. In the meantime, I'll use all the influence I
possess to get you a craft you'll like; and as I fancy that more work is
to be done in a steam-vessel than in a sailing-ship, I'll try and get
one for you."
The admiral's letter contained a good deal more in his usual style of
chit-chat; Mrs Murray had gone to stay with her friend Lucy at
Halliburton Hall, though he expected both of them back again, and hoped
that they would be with him when Jack arrived. Jack showed the letter
to Terence, who sighed when he read it.
"What's the matter?" asked Jack.
"I'm only thinking that an unlucky dog like myself, who has lost his
ship, has very little chance of getting another," said Adair; "and that
the bright hopes I entertained of soon getting my post-rank must be
abandoned for ever."
Jack, of course, did his best to console him. "Come along," he said;
"there's a grand ball to-night at the governor's, and we're asked; we'll
take the youngsters--it is a good thing to let them enjoy a little
society, and will help to polish them up before they return home."
Adair was unwilling to appear in public, but he yielded to Jack's
wishes. The three midshipmen were of course delighted, and busily
employed themselves, with the aid of their marines, in burnishing up
their long unused uniforms; so that when they entered the ballroom they
presented a very respectable appearance following in the wake of their
commanders.
Adair soon recovered his spirits, and Jack laughed as he watched him
whirling round and round in the valse, or prancing away in the galop
with true Hibernian vehemence. The midshipmen had entered into a
compact to introduce each other to their partners. They did not fail to
admire the blue eyes, light hair, and fair complexions of the Dutch
damsels.
"Never saw so many pretty girls under one roof in my life!" exclaimed
Tom; "I'm over head and ears in love with every one of them."
"`There's luck in odd numbers, cried Rory O'More,'" answered Desmond;
"to my fancy, the girl I last danced with is handsomer than any of them.
She was asking me all sorts of questions about our ship and the
commander and my uncle, and seemed very sorry about the loss of the
brig, of which she had evidently heard. I'll introduce you, Tom,--she
was engaged for the next dance, but said that she should be happy if I
would bring you up for the following one,--so come along. She's only
been here for a short time on her way home from India, so I gathered
from what she said; but I daresay she'll tell you if you ask her, for
there's evidently no nonsense about her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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