'Why, sir, they were told by William that it was your positive order that the two black people were to sleep with them; and I believe he told Mary that the man was to sleep with her.'

'Confound that fellow! he's always at mischief; you know, Jonathan, I never meant that.'

'I thought not, sir, as it is quite contrary to custom,' replied Jonathan.

'Well then, tell them so, and let's hear no more about it.'

Mr. Witherington then entered into a consultation with his butler, and acceded to the arrangements proposed by him. The parties arrived in due time, and were properly accommodated. Master Edward was not troubled with the stomach-ache, neither did he wake Mr. Witherington at five o'clock in the morning; and, after all, it was not very uncomfortable.

But, although things were not quite so uncomfortable as Mr. Witherington had antic.i.p.ated, still they were not comfortable; and Mr. Witherington was so annoyed by continual skirmishes with his servants, complaints from Judy, in bad English, of the cook, who, it must be owned, had taken a prejudice against her and Coco, occasional illness of the child, _et caetera_, that he found his house no longer quiet and peaceable. Three months had now nearly pa.s.sed, and no tidings of the boats had been received; and Captain Maxwell, who came up to see Mr. Witherington, gave it as his decided opinion that they must have foundered in the gale. As, therefore, there appeared to be no chance of Mrs. Templemore coming to take care of her child, Mr. Witherington at last resolved to write to Bath, where his sister resided, and acquaint her with the whole story, requesting her to come and superintend his domestic concerns. A few days afterwards he received the following reply:--

'BATH, _August_.

'MY DEAR BROTHER ANTONY--Your letter arrived safe to hand on Wednesday last, and I must say that I was not a little surprised at its contents; indeed, I thought so much about it that I revoked at Lady Betty Blabkin's whist-party, and lost four shillings and sixpence. You say that you have a child at your house belonging to your cousin, who married in so indecorous a manner. I hope what you say is true; but, at the same time, I know what bachelors are guilty of; although, as Lady Betty says, it is better never to talk or even to hint about these improper things. I cannot imagine why men should consider themselves, in an unmarried state, as absolved from that purity which maidens are so careful to preserve; and so says Lady Betty, with whom I had a little conversation on the subject. As, however, the thing is done, she agrees with me that it is better to hush it up as well as we can.

'I presume that you do not intend to make the child your heir, which I should consider as highly improper; and, indeed, Lady Betty tells me that the legacy-duty is ten per cent., and that it cannot be avoided. However, I make it a rule never to talk about these sort of things. As for your request that I will come up and superintend your establishment, I have advised with Lady Betty on the subject, and she agrees with me that, for the honour of the family, it is better that I should come, as it will save appearances. You are in a peck of troubles, as most men are who are free-livers, and are led astray by artful and alluring females.

However, as Lady Betty says, "the least said, the soonest mended."

'I will, therefore, make the necessary arrangements for letting my house, and hope to join you in about ten days; sooner, I cannot, as I find that my engagements extend to that period. Many questions have already been put to me on this unpleasant subject; but I always give but one answer, which is, that bachelors will be bachelors! and that, at all events, it is not so bad as if you were a married man: for I make it a rule never to talk about, or even to hint about these sort of things, for, as Lady Betty says, "Men will get into sc.r.a.pes, and the sooner things are hushed up the better."

So no more at present from your affectionate sister,

'MARGARET WITHERINGTON.

'_P.S._--Lady Betty and I both agree that you are very right in hiring two black people to bring the child into your house, as it makes the thing look _foreign_ to the neighbours, and we can keep our own secrets.

M. W.'

'Now, by all the sins of the Witheringtons, if this is not enough to drive a man out of his senses! Confound the suspicious old maid! I'll not let her come into this house. Confound Lady Betty, and all scandal-loving old tabbies like her! Bless me!' continued Mr.

Witherington, throwing the letter on the table, with a deep sigh, 'this is anything but comfortable.'

But if Mr. Witherington found it anything but comfortable at the commencement, he found it unbearable in the sequel.

[Ill.u.s.tration: '_Antony, for shame! fie, for shame!_']

His sister Moggy arrived, and installed herself in the house with all the pomp and protecting air of one who was the saviour of her brother's reputation and character. When the child was first brought down to her, instead of perceiving at once its likeness to Mr. Templemore, which was very strong, she looked at it and at her brother's face with her only eye, and shaking her finger, exclaimed--

'O Antony! Antony! and did you expect to deceive me?--the nose--the mouth exact--Antony, for shame! fie, for shame!'

But we must hurry over the misery that Mr. Witherington's kindness and benevolence brought upon him. Not a day pa.s.sed--scarcely an hour, without his ears being galled with his sister's insinuations. Judy and Coco were sent back to America; the servants, who had remained so long in his service, gave warning one by one, and, afterwards, were changed as often almost as there was a change in the moon. She ruled the house and her brother despotically; and all poor Mr. Witherington's comfort was gone until the time arrived when Master Edward was to be sent to school. Mr. Witherington then plucked up courage, and after a few stormy months drove his sister back to Bath, and once more found himself comfortable.

Edward came home during the holidays, and was a great favourite; but the idea had become current that he was the son of the old gentleman, and the remarks made were so unpleasant and grating to him, that he was not sorry, much as he was attached to the boy, when he declared his intention to choose the profession of a sailor.

Captain Maxwell introduced him into the service; and afterwards, when, in consequence of ill-health and exhaustion, he was himself obliged to leave it for a time, he procured for his _protege_ other ships. We must, therefore, allow some years to pa.s.s away, during which time Edward Templemore pursues his career, Mr Witherington grows older and more particular, and his sister Moggy amuses herself with Lady Betty's remarks, and her darling game of whist.

During all this period no tidings of the boats, or of Mrs. Templemore and her infant, had been heard; it was therefore naturally conjectured that they had all perished, and they were remembered but as things that had been.

CHAPTER VI

THE MIDSHIPMAN

The weather-side of the quarter-deck of H.M. frigate _Unicorn_ was occupied by two very great personages: Captain Plumbton, commanding the ship, who was very great in width if not in height, taking much more than his allowance of the deck, if it were not that he was the proprietor thereof, and ent.i.tled to the lion's share. Captain P. was not more than four feet ten inches in height; but then he was equal to that in girth: there was quite enough of him, if he had only been _rolled out_. He walked with his coat flying open, his thumbs stuck into the arm-holes of his waistcoat, so as to throw his shoulders back and increase his horizontal dimensions. He also held his head well aft, which threw his chest and stomach well forward. He was the prototype of pomposity and good-nature, and he strutted like an actor in a procession.

The other personage was the first lieutenant, whom Nature had pleased to fashion in another mould. He was as tall as the captain was short--as thin as his superior was corpulent. His long, lanky legs were nearly up to the captain's shoulders; and he bowed down over the head of his superior, as if he were the crane to hoist up, and the captain the bale of goods to be hoisted. He carried his hands behind his back, with two fingers twisted together; and his chief difficulty appeared to be to reduce his own stride to the parrot march of the captain. His features were sharp and lean as was his body, and wore every appearance of a cross-grained temper.

He had been making divers complaints of divers persons, and the captain had hitherto appeared imperturbable. Captain Plumbton was an even-tempered man, who was satisfied with a good dinner. Lieutenant Markitall was an odd-tempered man, who would quarrel with his bread and b.u.t.ter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _He walked with his coat flying open, his thumbs stuck into the arm-holes of his waistcoat._]

'Quite impossible, sir,' continued the first lieutenant, 'to carry on the duty without support.'

This oracular observation, which, from the relative forms of the two parties, descended as it were from above, was replied to by the captain with a 'Very true.'

'Then, sir, I presume you will not object to my putting that man in the report for punishment?'

'I'll think about it, Mr. Markitall.' This, with Captain Plumbton, was as much as to say, No.

'The young gentlemen, sir, I am sorry to say, are very troublesome.'

'Boys always are,' replied the captain.

'Yes, sir; but the duty must be carried on, and I cannot do without them.'

'Very true--midshipmen are very useful.'

'But I'm sorry to say, sir, that they are not. Now, sir, there's Mr.

Templemore; I can do nothing with him--he does nothing but laugh.'

'Laugh!--Mr. Markitall, does he laugh at you?'

'Not exactly, sir; but he laughs at everything. If I send him to the mast-head, he goes up laughing; if I call him down, he comes down laughing; if I find fault with him, he laughs the next minute: in fact, sir, he does nothing but laugh. I should particularly wish, sir, that you would speak to him, and see if any interference on your part----'

'Would make him cry--eh? better to laugh than cry in this world. Does he never cry, Mr. Markitall?'

'Yes, sir, and very unseasonably. The other day, you may recollect, when you punished Wilson the marine, whom I appointed to take care of his chest and hammock, he was crying the whole time; almost tantamount--at least an indirect species of mutiny on his part, as it implied----'

'That the boy was sorry that his servant was punished; I never flog a man but I'm sorry myself, Mr. Markitall.'

'Well, I do not press the question of his crying--that I might look over; but his laughing, sir, I must beg that you will take notice of that. Here he is, sir, coming up the hatchway. Mr. Templemore, the captain wishes to speak to you.'

Now, the captain did not wish to speak to him, but, forced upon him as it was by the first lieutenant, he could do no less. So Mr. Templemore touched his hat, and stood before the captain, we regret to say, with such a good-humoured, sly, confiding smirk on his countenance, as at once established the proof of the accusation, and the enormity of the offence.

'So, sir,' said Captain Plumbton, stopping in his perambulation, and squaring his shoulders still more, 'I find that you laugh at the first lieutenant.'

'I, sir?' replied the boy, the smirk expanding into a broad grin.

'Yes; you, sir,' said the first lieutenant, now drawing up to his full height; 'why, you're laughing now, sir.'