The veteran was examining the letter with rather an inquisitive eye; for his other eye was on an equally inquisitorial visit to a full bottle of rum that stood upon the table, and he hesitated to give up his charge to the young officer, who I now perceived had his right arm in a sling in consequence, as I afterwards learned, of a wound received in the battle of Aboukir. “Cantations or no cantations, sir,” replied the old quarter-master, “this here letter weighs heavy, and I have been close-hauled for these two days past; and it’s dry work, sir, that tack and half tack.” “Well, well, Johnson,” rejoined the midshipman, “you want a glass of grog, and you shall have it; so, steward, give him one, d’ye hear. And now hand over the scrawl.” “Ay, ay, sir!” said Johnson, “and if it arn’t freighted with a pair of white lapels--put some more rum in, you black angel!--then call old Johnson a lubber, that’s all.” Moriarty laughed; but it was evident that he took the letter with some degree of tremour, especially as one of the youngsters jocosely addressed him as _Lieutenant_ Moriarty. “Hold your prating, simpleton,” said he, “you wont find commissions so plentiful when you come to my age, unless you happen to be a stray slip of nobility, or have strong parliamentary interest to back you.” The old quarter-master had been wrangling with the black steward for another drop, and then holding up his grog, exclaimed, “Your health, Lieutenant Moriarty! and I hope I shall live to see you carry ‘the red flag at the fore.’” “With all my heart, Johnson,” replied Moriarty, his eyes sparkling with pleasure, for the letter was now unfolded; “and see, here is the first step up the ratlines sure enough; whether I shall ever reach the mast-head or not is another thing.” It was an order from the Admiralty to go on shore and receive his commission, and every one crowded round him full of congratulations. I cannot say but I felt a little jealous about the “red flag at the fore,” for I considered _that_ as my exclusive right, though utterly ignorant of what it meant. But I was soon enlightened upon the subject, for being naturally communicative, I mentioned my expectations of getting “the red flag at the fore” during dinner, and several of the little midshipmen nearly choked themselves with laughing at me. I then learned that the “red flag at the fore” was the distinction of a vice-admiral of the red; a station that not more than one officer in five thousand ever attained, and even then only through very distinguished merit or peculiar good fortune. Nevertheless, I was nothing daunted, and the “red flag at the fore” urged me on.