Mr Midshipman Easy

by Captain Frederick Marryat

  “Mr Easy, you know the state of the ship. We have everything to do— new masts, new rigging, everything almost to refit—and yet you ask to go on shore! Now, sir, you may take this answer for yourself, and all the other midshipmen in the ship, that not one soul of you puts his foot on shore until we are again all a-taunto.”

  “Allow me to observe, sir,” said our hero, “that it is very true that all our services may be required when the duty commences, but this being Saturday night, and tomorrow Sunday, the frigate will not be even moved till Monday morning; and as the work cannot begin before that, I trust you will permit leave until that time.”

  “My opinion is different, sir,” replied the first lieutenant.

  “Perhaps, sir, you will allow me to argue the point,” replied Jack.

  “No, sir, I never allow argument; walk over to the other side of the deck, if you please.”

  “O certainly, sir,” said Jack, “if you wish it.”

  Jack’s first idea was to go on shore without leave, but from this he was persuaded by Gascoigne, who told him that it would displease Captain Wilson, and that old Tom, the governor, would not receive him. Jack agreed to this, and then, after a flourish about the rights of man, tyranny, oppression, and so forth, he walked forward to the forecastle, where he found his friend Mesty, who had heard all that had passed, and who insidiously said to him in a low tone—

  “Why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?”

  “Why, indeed,” thought Jack, boiling with indignation; “to be cooped up here at the will of another? I am a fool—Mesty is right—I’ll ask for my discharge to-morrow.” Jack went down below, and told Gascoigne what he had determined to do.

  “You’ll do no such thing, Jack,” replied Gascoigne; “depend upon it, you’ll have plenty of leave in a day or two. Pottyfar was in a pet with the chaplain, who was too much for him. Captain Wilson will be on board by nine o’clock.”

  Nevertheless, Jack walked his first watch in the magnificents, as all middies do when they cannot go on shore, and turned in at twelve o’clock with the resolution of sticking to his purpose, and quitting his Majesty’s service; in fact, of presenting his Majesty with his between two and three years’ time, served as midshipman, all free, gratis, and for nothing, except his provisions and his pay, which some captains are bold enough to assert that they not only are not worth, but not even the salt that accompanies it; forgetting that they were once midshipmen themselves, and at the period were, of course, of about the same value.

  The next morning Captain Wilson came off; the ship’s company were mustered, the service read by Mr Hawkins, and Jack, as soon as all the official duties were over, was about to go up to the captain, when the captain said to him,—

  “Mr Easy, the governor desired me to bring you on shore to dine with him, and he has a bed at your service.”

  Jack touched his hat and ran down below, to make his few preparations.

  By the time that Mesty, who had taken charge of his chest, &c., had put his necessaries in the boat, Jack had almost made up his mind that his Majesty should not be deprived yet awhile of so valuable an officer. Jack returned on deck, and found that the captain was not yet ready; he went up to Mr Pottyfar, and told him that the captain had ordered him to go on shore with him; and Mr Pottyfar, who had quite got over his spleen, said,—

  “Very well, Mr Easy—I wish you a great deal of pleasure.”

  “This is very different from yesterday,” thought Jack; “suppose I try the medicine?”

  “I am not very well, Mr Pottyfar, and those pills of the doctor’s don’t agree with me—I always am ill if I am long without air and exercise.”

  “Very true,” said the first lieutenant, “people require air and exercise. I’ve no opinion of the doctor’s remedies; the only thing that is worth a farthing is the universal medicine.”

  “I should so long to try it, sir,” replied Jack; “I read the book one day, and it said that if you took it daily for a fortnight or three weeks, and with plenty of air and exercise, it would do wonders.”

  “And it’s very true,” replied Mr Pottyfar; “and if you’d like to try it you shall—I have plenty—shall I give you a dose now?”

  “If you please, sir,” replied Jack; “and tell me how often I am to take it, for my head aches all day.”

  Mr Pottyfar took Jack down, and putting into his hand three or four bottles of the preparation, told him that he was to take thirty drops at night, when he went to bed, not to drink more than two glasses of wine, and to avoid the heat of the sun.

  “But, sir,” replied Jack, who had put the bottles in his pocket, “I am afraid that I cannot take it long; for as the ship is ready for fitting, I shall be exposed to the sun all day.”

  “Yes, if you are wanted, Mr Easy; but we have plenty here without you; and when you are unwell you cannot be expected to work. Take care of your health; and I trust, indeed I am sure, that you will find this medicine wonderfully efficacious.”

  “I will begin to-night, sir, if you please,” replied Jack, “and I am very much obliged to you. I sleep at the governor’s—shall I come on board to-morrow morning?”

  “No, no; take care of yourself, and get well; I shall be glad to hear that you get better. Send me word how it acts.”

  “I will, sir, send you word by the boat every day,” replied Jack, delighted; “I am very much obliged to you, sir. Gascoigne and I were thinking of asking you, but did not like to do so: he, poor fellow, suffers from headaches almost as bad as I do, and the doctor’s pills are of no use to him.”

  “He shall have some too, Mr Easy; I thought he looked pale. I’ll see to it this afternoon. Recollect, moderate exercise, Mr Easy, and avoid the sun at midday.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Jack, “I’ll not forget;” and off went Jack, delighted. He ordered Mesty to put up his whole portmanteau instead of the small bundle he put into the boat, and telling Gascoigne what a spoke he had put into his wheel, was soon in the boat with the captain, and went on shore, where he was cordially greeted by the governor.

  CHAPTER XXVII

  In which Captain Wilson is repaid with interest for Jack’s borrowing his name; proving that a good name is as good as a legacy.

  “WELL, JACK, my boy, have you any long story ready for me?” inquired the governor.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Jack, “I have one or two very good ones.”

  “Very well, we’ll hear them after dinner,” replied old Tom. “In the meantime find out your room and take possession.”

  “That must not be for very long, governor,” observed Captain Wilson. “Mr Easy must learn his duty, and there is a good opportunity now.”

  “If you please, sir,” replied Jack, “I’m on the sick list.”

  “Sick list,” said Captain Wilson; “you were not in the report that Mr Wilson gave me this morning.”

  “No, I’m on Mr Pottyfar’s list, and I’m going through a course of the universal medicine.”

  “What’s all this, Jack, what’s all this? There’s some story here. Don’t be afraid of the captain—you’ve me to back you,” said the governor.

  Jack was not at all afraid of the captain, so he told him how the first lieutenant had refused him leave the evening before, and how he had now given him permission to remain, and try the universal medicine, at which the governor laughed heartily, nor could Captain Wilson refrain from joining.

  “But, Mr Easy,” replied the captain, after a pause, “if Mr Pottyfar will allow you to stay on shore, I cannot—you have your duty to learn. You must be aware that now is your time, and you must not lose opportunities that do not occur every day. You must acknowledge the truth of what I say.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Jack, “I admit it all, provided I do intend to follow the profession;” and so saying our hero bowed, and left the veranda where they had been talking.

  This hint of Jack’s, thrown out by him, more with the intention of preventing his being sent on board than with any definite idea, was not l
ost upon either the captain or the governor.

  “Does he jib, then?” observed the governor.

  “On the contrary, I never knew him more attentive, and so entirely getting rid of his former notions. He has behaved most nobly in the gale, and there has not been one complaint against him—I never was more astonished—he must have meant something.”

  “I’ll tell you what he means, Wilson—that he does not like to be sent on board, nothing more. He’s not to be cooped up—you may lead him, but not drive him.”

  “Yes, but the service will not admit of it. I never could allow it—he must do his duty like the rest, and conform to the rules.”

  “Exactly, so he must; but look ye, Wilson, you must not lose him: it’s all easily settled—appoint him your orderly midshipman to and from the ship; that will be employment, and he can always remain here at night. I will tell him that I have asked, as a favour, what I now do, and leave me to find out what he is thinking about.”

  “It may be done that way, certainly,” replied Captain Wilson, musing; “and you are more likely to get his intentions from him than I am. I am afraid he has too great a command of money ever to be fond of the ship; it is the ruin of a junior officer to be so lavishly supplied.”

  “He’s a long way from ruin yet, Wilson—he’s a very fine fellow, even by your own acknowledgment. You humoured him out of gratitude to his father, when he first came into the service; humour him a little now to keep him in it. Besides, if your first lieutenant is such a fool with his universal medicine, can you wonder at a midshipman taking advantage of it?”

  “No, but I ought not to allow him to do so with my eyes open.”

  “He has made it known to you upon honour, and you ought not to take advantage of his confidence: but still what I proposed would, I think, be the best, for then he will be at his duty in a way that will suit all parties. You, because you employ him on service—the first lieutenant, because Jack can take his medicine—and Jack, because he can dine with me every day.”

  “Well, I suppose it must be so,” replied Captain Wilson, laughing; “but still, I trust, you will discover what is working in his mind to induce him to give me that answer, governor.”

  “Never fear, Jack shall confess, and lay his soul as bare as that of a Catholic bigot before his padre.”

  The party sat down to dinner, and what with the governor’s aide-decamp and those invited, it was pretty numerous. After the cloth had been removed, the governor called upon Jack for his stories, whereupon, much to the surprise of Captain Wilson, who had never heard one word of it, for the admiral had not mentioned anything about it to him during the short time the Aurora was with the Toulon fleet, our hero gave the governor and the company the narrative of all that happened in the Mary Ann transport— the loves of Captain Hogg and Miss Hicks—the adventures of Gascoigne— and his plan, by which he baulked them all. The governor was delighted, and Captain Wilson not a little astonished.

  “You prevented a very foolish thing, Mr Easy, and behaved very well,” observed the captain, laughing again at the idea; “but you never told me of all this.”

  “No, sir,” replied Jack, “I have always reserved my stories for the governor’s table, where I am sure to meet you, and then telling once does for all.”

  Jack received his appointment as orderly midshipman, and everything went on well; for, of his own accord, he stayed on board the major part of the day to learn his duty, which very much pleased the captain and Mr Pottyfar. In this Jack showed a great deal of good sense, and Captain Wilson did not repent of the indulgence he had shown him. Jack’s health improved daily, much to Mr Pottyfar’s satisfaction, who imagined that he took the universal medicine night and morning. Gascoigne also was a patient under the first lieutenant’s hands, and often on shore with our hero, who thought no more of quitting the service.

  For seven weeks they had now remained in harbour, for even the masts had to be made, when, one day, Captain Wilson opened a letter he received at breakfast-time, and having read it, laid it down with the greatest surprise depicted in his countenance. “Good heavens! what can this mean?” said he.

  “What’s the matter, Wilson?” said the governor.

  “Just hear its contents, Sir Thomas.”

  Captain Wilson then read in Spanish as follows:—

  Honourable Sir,

  It is my duty to advise you that the Honourable Lady Signora Alforgas de Guzman, now deceased, has, in her testament, bequeathed to you the sum of one thousand doubloons in gold as a testimony of your kind services on the night of the 12th of August. If you will authorise any merchant here to receive the money, it shall be paid forthwith, or remitted in any way you please to appoint. May you live a thousand years!

  Your most obedient servant,

  Alfonzo Xerez

  Jack heard the letter read, rose quietly, whistled low, as if not attending to it, and then slipped out of the room, unperceived by the governor or Captain Wilson.

  The fact was, that although Jack had longed to tell the governor about his adventures after the masquerade, he did not like yet awhile, until he was sure that there were no consequences—because he had given the captain’s name instead of his own. As soon as he heard the letter read, he at once perceived that it had been the old lady, and not the priests, who had made the inquiry, and that by giving Captain Wilson’s name, he had obtained for him this fine legacy. Jack was delighted, but still puzzled, so he walked out of the room to reflect a little.

  “What can it mean?” said Captain Wilson. “I never rendered any services to any one on the 12th of August or after it. It is some mistake—12th of August—that was the day of the grand masquerade.”

  “A lucky one for you, at all events—for you know, mistake or not, no one else can touch the legacy. It can only be paid to you.”

  “I never heard of anything taking place at the masquerade—I was there, but I left early, for I was not very well. Mr Easy,” said Captain Wilson, turning round; but Jack was gone.

  “Was he at the masquerade?” asked the governor.

  “Yes, I know he was, for the first lieutenant told me that he requested not to come on board till the next day.”

  “Depend upon it,” replied the governor, striking his fist upon the table, “that Jack’s at the bottom of it.”

  “I should not be surprised at his being at the bottom of anything,” replied Captain Wilson, laughing.

  “Leave it to me, Wilson; I’ll find it out.”

  After a little more conversation, Captain Wilson went on board, leaving Jack on purpose that the governor might pump him. But this Sir Thomas had no occasion to do, for Jack had made up his mind to make the governor his confidant, and he immediately told him the whole story. The governor held his sides at our hero’s description, especially at his ruse of giving the captain’s name instead of his own.

  “You’ll kill me, Jack, before you’ve done with me,” said old Tom, at last; “but now, what is to be done?”

  Our hero now became grave; he pointed out to the governor that he himself had plenty of money, and would come into a large fortune, and that Captain Wilson was poor, with a large family. All Jack wished the governor to manage was, that Captain Wilson might consent to accept the legacy.

  “Right, boy, right! you’re my own boy,” replied the governor, “but we must think of this, for Wilson is the very soul of honour, and there may be some difficulty about it. You have told nobody?”

  “Not a soul but you, Sir Thomas.”

  “It will never do to tell him all this, Jack, for he would insist that the legacy belonged to you.”

  “I have it, sir,” replied Jack. “When I was going into the masquerade, I offered to hand this very old lady, who was covered with diamonds, out of her carriage, and she was so frightened at my dress of a devil, that she would have fallen down had it not been for Captain Wilson, who supported her, and she was very thankful to him.”

  “You are right, Jack,” replied the governor, after a shor
t pause: “that will, I think, do. I must tell him the story of the friars, because I swore you had something to do with it—but I’ll tell him no more: leave it all to me.”

  Captain Wilson returned in the afternoon, and found the governor in the veranda.

  “I have had some talk with young Easy,” said the governor, “and he has told me a strange story about that night, which he was afraid to tell to everybody.”

  The governor then narrated the history of the friars and the will.

  “Well, but,” observed Captain Wilson, “the history of that will afford no clue to the legacy.”

  “No, it does not; but still, as I said, Jack had a hand in this. He frightened the old lady as a devil, and you caught her in your arms and saved her from falling, so he had a hand in it, you see.”

  “I do now remember that I did save a very dowager-like old personage from falling at the sight of a devil, who, of course, must have been our friend Easy.”

  “Well, and that accounts for the whole of it.”

  “A thousand doubloons for picking up an old lady!”

  “Yes, why not?—have you not heard of a man having a fortune left him for merely opening the pew door of a church, to an old gentleman?”