Chapter 20. Ronald Second Lieutenant Of The "Thisbe"...

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY. RONALD SECOND LIEUTENANT OF THE "THISBE"--A BALL AT CALCUTTA--RONALD'S GALLANTRY--A CHALLENGE--HIS REPLY

Ronald Morton had gone through the usual vicissitudes of a midshipman's career, during the full swing of a hot and somewhat bloody war. He had run a good many chances of being knocked on the head, but he had done a good many things also to be proud of, though he was not overmuch so, and he had gained a fair amount of credit.

Once more he was on board his old ship, the "Thisbe." When he first joined he was a ship's boy; he was now her second lieutenant. The first was Rawson--he was a totally changed man. He had performed a very gallant action under the eye of the admiral, had been highly spoken of in the "Gazette," had in consequence at once received his promotion, and had been an active, enterprising officer ever since. He seldom or never grumbled now, or talked of his bad luck; indeed he seemed to think that the world was a very good sort of place for some men to live in, and that the British navy was not a bad profession after all for a fellow to belong to. He and Ronald Morton had not met for some years. They were glad to find themselves once again shipmates.

The "Thisbe" was commanded by one they both loved and respected--honest, gallant, fighting Tom Calder. Tom had won his upward way by courage and zeal, rarely surpassed. The Lords of the Admiralty could not refuse him his promotion, had they wished it. The whole navy would have cried out at the injustice. Happily, honest Tom had no one to whisper evil against him. He had not an enemy in the world--so, to be sure, it is sometimes said of a goose, but then the goose is his own enemy. Tom, on the contrary, had proved true to himself, and that, in fact, lay at the bottom of his success.

Of the old "Thisbes," as they were pleased to call themselves, Dicky Glover was the only officer. He was, however, still a mate. He was senior mate, though he could not help now and then just thinking that it would not be so very unfortunate--only a merciful dispensation of Providence--should they go into action, seeing that somebody must be killed, should a shot happen to knock over the third lieutenant, and give him a chance of promotion--not but what Dicky had a very kind feeling for the said third lieutenant. He was always ready to do him any service, to lend him his books or money; the latter the lieutenant was most fond of borrowing: still Dicky and he were very good friends; Dicky had plenty of money, and Peter Sims, the third lieutenant, had none. How he had got his promotion was surprising to those who knew him, till it was whispered about that he had a very near relative in a high position, who had no difficulty in obtaining it for him. Sims was, however, generally liked; he was very inoffensive, he never talked about himself or his friends, seemed to wish to be let alone, and to let others alone. He was always ready to do a good-natured action, to take a brother officer's watch, or to give up his own leave to accommodate another.

Before the mast there were several hands who had served in the "Thisbe," when commanded by Captain Courtney. Two had attached themselves especially to Ronald--one was Job Truefitt, and the other Bobby Doull. No men could have been more faithful or attached than they were to him-- Job regarded him as his son, and constituted himself his guardian, while Bobby looked up to him as to a superior being whom it was an honour to follow and obey.

The frigate was bound out to the land so famed for tigers, and curry, palanquins, pagodas, and prize-money--the East Indies; she had a quick run down Channel, when a northerly breeze carried her almost to the tropics.

Rio was visited; the frigate touched at the Cape, and finally anchored at the mouth of the Hooghly, near the flag-ship of the admiral on the station.

The usual compliments passed, the sails were furled, and shore-boats, manned by strange-looking natives, with stranger-looking fruits and vegetables, chattering unknown tongues intended to be English, came alongside. The admiral himself was up at Calcutta, and everybody on board the "Thisbe" was anxious to pay a visit to the city of palaces. Sims offered to stop, but Rawson bluntly told him that he could not trust the ship to his charge; so he, pocketing the compliment, accompanied the captain and Morton, with two or three more of the gun-room officers, and Glover and several of the midshipmen, up to the city. They luckily took their full-dress uniforms with them; and having lionised the city in palanquins all the day, they found themselves in the evening at a magnificent ball, given by one of the principal officers of the Company's Civil Service.

The officers of the "Thisbe" stopped near the entrance to admire the brilliant spectacle. Superb chandeliers hung from the ceiling or projected from the walls, amid gay coloured banners, and wreaths of exquisite flowers; while below them moved the fairest of Eve's daughters to be found in the capital of the East, amid numerous military officers in various handsome uniforms; and rajahs, and nabobs, and princes, and chiefs of every description, habited in the richest and most picturesque of oriental costumes, with turbans and daggers and sword-hilts sparkling with gold and silver, and gems of fabulous value.

The gallant captain of the frigate, and most of the officers who accompanied him, were more accustomed to the quarterdeck, and the battle and the breeze, than to ball-rooms or palaces, and they stood for some time totally entranced, and scarcely able to express their surprise to each other at the gay scene.

Morton had in his boyhood learned most of the dances then in vogue, and a quick eye and perfect self-possession enabled him to appear to advantage when at rare intervals he entered a ball-room. Still, feeling himself a stranger among a crowd, he very naturally preferred remaining in a quiet spot, that he might at his leisure watch what was going forward. Captain Calder felt very much as he did, for he was even still less accustomed to ball-rooms, though his true gentlemanly feelings and innate sense of propriety prevented him from committing any solecism in good manners. Sims and Dicky Glover stood together.

"This is very slow work, sir, I think," observed Dicky to his superior, with whom, bye-the-bye, he felt himself in a ballroom on the most perfect equality. "I vote we shove forward, and look out for partners. There are lots of pretty girls, and I flatter myself that if they were asked they would prefer us blue-jackets to the red-coats."

"As to that I am not quite certain," answered the lieutenant. "You see these soldier officers out here, at all events, are generally matrimonially inclined, while such would be a very inconvenient inclination for us to indulge in; and so not from superior merit but from the force of circumstances the soldiers are likely to carry the day."

"That argument of yours is irresistible, but still I don't see that it should make us give up our chance of a dance," answered Glover, pushing a little more forward.

Like riflemen they advanced, skirmishing, one supporting the other. Dicky, however, was the most adventurous; without him, probably, Sims would have remained in the background. Sims had some modesty. Glover had the allowance with which, for wise ends, midshipmen are usually gifted.

"There's a pretty girl! she hasn't footed it for a long time; there's nothing like trying it. I'll go and ask her," exclaimed Dicky, as if suddenly seized with an irresistible impulse; and before Sims could make any remark he had crossed the intervening space to where the lady at whom he had pointed was sitting, and was bowing and scraping, and smiling with the greatest self-confidence.

The young lady looked rather astonished, and not over well pleased, but this did not in any way abash Mr Glover. While he with praiseworthy perseverance was still scraping away, requesting the hand of the lady for a cotillion, a minuette, or a country-dance, a gentleman came up and spoke to her. Glover looked at her earnestly, and spoke a few words; she put out her hand, he took it, and wrung it till she almost cried out.

"Cousin Susan!" he exclaimed. "Well, I didn't think it was you, and yet I ought to have known you among a thousand. But you know you were but a little girl when we last met, and now you are grown up and married. Well--but I'm so very glad!--how jolly! I didn't expect to enjoy this ball; but now I shall like it very much."

Thus Glover rattled on, and to the surprise of Morton and Sims, and his other shipmates, who had not overheard the conversation, was seen standing up to dance with an air of conscious superiority and perfect self-satisfaction. Sims was rather jealous. Morton was highly amused. Glover flew up and down the room, enjoying the dance to the full. What cared he for the heat. What mattered to him that he trod on the toes of innumerable rajahs and nabobs, who would gladly have stuck their jewel-hilted daggers into him, or given him an embrace with a tiger's claw; an instrument worthy of Asiatic invention. His cousin, however, had soon introduced Glover to a more active partner, and so engrossed was he at first that he quite forgot to come back to his friends.

While Morton was watching the dancers an officer with a young lady stood up near him to join them. His eye was attracted to her countenance, and he was struck by its excessively pleasing expression. He looked and looked again: he thought her exquisitely beautiful, and while he looked he could not help half fancying that he had seen that countenance before. Still where it had been he could not discover; he had seen so few ladies during his sea-life that he was convinced he should, before long, remember. Yet what puzzled him was, that he felt so very familiar with the countenance. Eyes have a remarkable sympathy for each other; after a time the lady knew that she was observed--not with idle, careless admiration, but especially noticed. She looked up for a moment and observed a countenance of manly beauty and intelligence not easily forgotten. There were none in that vast assemblage to be compared to it, she thought, and yet she tried not to allow herself to dwell on the thought; her partner carried her off in the rapid dance.

Morton stood watching her with greater interest than he would have allowed even to himself.

"Yes, I must have seen her--but where? In my dreams--in my fancy," he muttered to himself as his eyes continued following the fair young girl. "Nonsense! I am allowing my imagination to run away with me. And yet I do know that countenance, I am certain of it."

Perhaps the young lady saw his eyes following hers. She seemed at all events to be paying but very little attention to the observations of her partner.

Morton at length noticed him; he was a young man, and had the air of a person thoroughly well satisfied with himself; but as Ronald watched him more narrowly he was convinced that he had taken more wine than his head could bear; his flushed countenance and unsteady movements after a time showed this. His partner probably had made the same discovery; and though in those days his condition would not have excited the disgust it would at the present in the mind of a well-educated girl, she was evidently anxious to obtain a seat, and to release herself from his society. Still he held her hand with a look of maudlin admiration, and insisted on forcing her once more down the dance. It was evident that she would have to struggle to escape from him, and rather than attract observation she allowed herself to be dragged once more towards the bottom of the room.

Such was the interpretation Morton put on what he witnessed, and he felt strongly inclined to rush forward to assist her. The couple had got close to him, by which time the gentleman had become still more excited and unsteady--his foot slipped--the fair girl looked up imploringly at Morton's countenance, so he thought--her partner fell to the ground, and would have dragged her with him, when Ronald sprang forward and saved her from the threatened catastrophe.

"Thank you--thank you!--oh take me to my friend!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with nervousness.

Ronald led her through the crowd; her partner picked himself up, and uttering an exclamation would have followed them, had not some acquaintance near at hand held him back, and ultimately persuaded him quietly to retire to another room; leave the ball altogether, he would not.

"To be cut out by a sea-monster, a porpoise, a mere nautilus--that will never do!" he hiccupped out. "No, no--I must have my revenge on the fellow. I'll insult him; drill a hole in him; my honour requires it. Couldn't show my face again until I have killed my man."

The young man did not give vent to these expressions until his more sensible acquaintance had retired; but two or three much of his own character remained, who partly from a love of mischief, utterly regardless of the consequences, persuaded him that he had received so gross an insult that it could be atoned for only by mortal combat.

"We'll settle matters for you," said Lieutenant Bolton, a chum of Maguire's. "Go back when you feel a little better; tread on his toe, or dig your elbow into his ribs, and tell him quietly you intended to do so. It will wonderfully facilitate our arrangements."

Meantime Morton--totally unconscious of the annoyance preparing for him, and with the fair stranger whom he had rescued resting on his arm, was looking for a vacant seat in which to place her.

"Who is your chaperone?" he asked. "Where do you think we can find her?"

"Mrs Edmonstone," she answered. "Mamma was unwell, and papa could not come till late in the evening, and so she took charge of me. She is one of the few ladies we know well in Calcutta, and whom mamma liked to ask to take her place. Ah, there she comes: she will, I am sure, thank you, as I do, for saving me from so very disagreeable an accident."

"I rejoice that you escaped it," answered Morton before he looked up; when he did so he saw approaching them the very lady with whom Glover seemed to be so well acquainted: she now had his arm.

"That is Mrs Edmonstone," said Morton's companion. "There are two seats; she is going to take one. I am afraid I must sit down."

Morton led her to the seat next her friend, and would have retired, though most unwilling so to do, when Glover caught him by the arm, exclaiming, "Mr Morton, allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Mrs Edmonstone--she wishes to make your acquaintance; she knows that if it had not been for you, I should have been food for the sharks long ago."

Dicky had indeed been saying a number of complimentary things about Morton, which he fully deserved. Mrs Edmonstone held out her hand and said frankly, "I am indeed glad to have an opportunity of thanking you for saving my cousin's life, and affording him the advantage of your friendship; your name, and, I may say, your many gallant deeds, have long been familiar to me: all his family are grateful to you."

Morton bowed and felt gratified, for Mrs Edmonstone's manner was so frank and cordial that he experienced none of the oppression which a sensitive person is apt to feel when receiving compliments, however well merited, if not bestowed with tact. She, supposing naturally that he had already been introduced to her younger companion, did not think it necessary again to go through that ceremony.

Encouraged by her manner, Morton remained talking in an animated way to her and her friend, Glover standing by and occasionally indulging in amusing remarks, which savoured more of the salt ocean than of the ball-room, but had no want of refinement to shock the ears of his auditors. Morton felt himself altogether in a new world; it was not very strange, but it was very different to anything he had ever before enjoyed; he put forth powers of conversation which he had not supposed himself to possess. He also was struck with the lively and intelligent remarks of the younger lady, and at the same time enchanted with the perfect simplicity which they betokened.

"Certainly her manners and conversation do not belie her looks; she is charming, she is perfect," he more than once said to himself.

Few men can so conceal their feelings, especially if they are not aware what those feelings are, when in conversation with a lady, without her having an idea, undefined and uncertain though it may be, of the matter. The party were so interested in each other's conversation that they might have continued talking till supper was announced, entirely regardless of what was going forward in the rest of the room, had they not been interrupted by the appearance of another person on the stage, who came up to claim the young lady's hand.

He was slight and, though not very tall, of a good figure, with handsome features, and a remarkably dark complexion; he was dressed in a rich semi-oriental military costume, and had a dashing independent air about him, which Morton thought approached very much to a swagger, but perhaps at that moment he was not a very unprejudiced judge. Ronald could not help staring at him in a somewhat marked manner.

"Extraordinary!" he exclaimed to himself, "that I should come unexpectedly into this ball-room and meet two persona with whose countenances I am so familiar, and yet not have the slightest notion who they are. That young man's face I know perfectly well; I must have met him over and over again, in a very different dress to what he now wears, and under very different circumstances, and I must have known him intimately, of that I am certain."

"Do you not dance, Mr Morton?" asked Mrs Edmonstone, seeing him look about the room, as he was doing, in an abstracted manner, and fancying that he wished probably to be introduced to a partner. The instant her voice recalled his scattered senses, "Thank you," he answered; "I so seldom have had opportunities of doing so that I can scarcely call myself a dancer; at present I confess that I feel more amusement in looking on than I should in dancing."

"Can you tell me," said Morton, "who is that young man in the handsome costume, who is dancing with your friend?"

"I can indeed say very little about him," was the answer. "He is a Captain Gerardo, I understand,--a foreigner, that is to say, not English; either a Frenchman, or Spaniard, or Portuguese. He has been attached to one of the native courts in the East--I do not know which-- and has come here on his travels before returning home. He seems to have come with several good introductions, especially to natives of high rank, and must be wealthy, as he is lavish in his expenditure. My husband, however, is not quite satisfied about him, and is making inquiries to ascertain whether or not he is an impostor. Numbers come to this country expecting to find a fine field for the exercise of their talents. They now and then, however, have to beat a precipitate retreat. I would not willingly have allowed my sweet friend, Edda, to dance with him, but he has been introduced to her father, who rather affects him, and I could not interfere."

"Edda!" repeated Ronald to himself, the name conjuring up a thousand recollections of his far-distant home, for he had there heard it frequently. "What is your friend's surname?" he asked; "I did not hear it."

"She is the daughter of Colonel and Mrs Armytage, who are at present in Calcutta. He is on the staff--a somewhat haughty, proud man, and not a favourite of mine, but she is a gentle, amiable woman; only yields too much to him, I think."

"How strange!" repeated Ronald aloud.

"Do you know them, Mr Morton?" she asked.

"If Mrs Armytage is the daughter of Sir Marcus Wardhill, of Lunnasting Castle, in Shetland, I know of them, though I have not seen her since I was a child. I was born on the estate, and brought up by her elder sister, who had lost her own child. Her story is a very romantic and sad one. You probably have heard of it."

"Something, but I do not recollect all the particulars; Edda herself knows but little. The families keep up no communication, I fancy."

"But slight," said Morton, not liking to enter too minutely into particulars, and yet deeply interested. "I have news from Shetland occasionally, but I have not been there since I was a boy."

"Shall I tell Miss Armytage that you know her family?" asked Mrs Edmonstone, with some hesitation.

Ronald considered a moment. "I will beg you not to do so," he answered. "There can be no object gained. She knows nothing of my family, and probably takes but little interest in Shetland itself, while I have reason to know that her father has not for many years been on good terms with Sir Marcus Wardhill."

"Probably you are right; I will do as you wish," said the lady, and she kept her word.

Supper was over, and the guests began to take their departure. Morton and Glover saw Mrs Edmonstone and Miss Armytage to their carriage, and were going back to wait for the rest of their shipmates, when a young man in military uniform stepped up to the former, and, politely bowing, said that he had been deputed by his friend, Lieutenant Maguire, to demand the only reparation which one gentleman could afford another, for an insult he had that evening received.

"Assuredly, sir, you mistake my identity," answered Morton, calmly. "I am not acquainted with Lieutenant Maguire, nor have I insulted, intentionally or otherwise, any human being."

"Some people entertain very different notions to others as to what is an insult," said the officer, with a sneer, intended to excite Morton's anger. "My friend Maguire is exceedingly sensitive as to his honour. Not to lose time, sir, by any circumlocution in my remarks, you are, sir, I am led to understand, Lieutenant Morton, of his Majesty's frigate 'Thisbe'?"

"I am, sir," said Morton; "your information on that point is correct."

"I knew I was right, sir," said the young officer, with a bullying air, mistaking a look of astonishment, which Morton could not suppress, for an exhibition of fear. "Mr Maguire conceives that early this evening you purposely tripped him up, and when you had brought him to the ground, you carried off his partner and laughed at him. Any one of these acts, sir, was an insult, to be washed out only with blood, as any man with a spark of honour in his composition will allow."

Morton, though very much inclined to laugh at this absurd assertion, felt at the same time it was annoying. The only reply he could give was, that the young man was tipsy, and fell in consequence, and that he had nothing whatever to do with the matter. This answer would not be satisfactory to the gentleman who had brought the challenge. Still, it seemed too preposterous that he should allow himself to be drawn into a quarrel, against his will, by hair-brained young men who had lost the few wits they possessed by drinking. His own high sense of honour had never before been called in question--his gallantry had always been conspicuous.

"I cannot reply to you at once," he answered quietly, turning to Lieutenant Maguire's second. "Leave me your card and address, and I promise you you shall hear from me. Perhaps, in the meantime, your friend and his advisers may think better of the matter, and, at all events, you can convey him my assurance that I had no intention of insulting him, or of hurting his feelings in any way."

"Well, sir, I must be content with your reply, though I cannot say that I conceive it to be a very satisfactory one. My name is Bolton, a brother officer of Maguire's. Here is my card and address. I shall expect your friend." Saying this, the young man, with a pompous air, turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

"This is indeed provoking, to have a quarrel thus pertinaciously fixed on me," said Morton, taking Glover's arm. "I must see the captain, and put the matter into his hands."

Morton told Captain Calder what had occurred.

He looked considerably vexed, though he laughed as he answered, "I will act as your friend, as it is called, with all my heart, and go and see these young donkeys. If they insist on fighting, it shall be with cutlasses or boat stretchers. Do they think sailors are accustomed to handle their little pop-guns, and practise to commit murder with a steady hand? But seriously, my dear Morton, what do you wish?"

"To abide by God's laws, Captain Calder, and to set at nought those of men," answered the lieutenant.

"Spoken like yourself, Morton, and I have no fear that discredit will be brought on the service if we all so act," said the captain. "And now let us collect our forces, and beat a retreat to our quarters." _

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