Syd Belton Part 24

"What's the matter, sir?" said the captain, sternly.

"Matter?--I am pained, my dear Captain Belton; absolutely pained. I would have done anything to serve you both, my dear friends, but my midshipmen's berth is crammed. I could not--dare not--take another. If there was anything else I could do to serve Sir Thomas and you I should be delighted."

"Thank you, Captain Dashleigh," said Syd's father, rising; "there is nothing else. I will not detain you longer."

"I would say lunch with me, my dear sir, but really--as you see--my secretary--the demands upon my time--you thoroughly understand?"

"Yes, sir, I understand. Good morning."

"Good morning, my dear Captain Belton; _good_ morning, my young friend.

I will speak to any of the commanding officers I know on your behalf.

Good day."

The captain stalked silently down-stairs, closely followed by Syd, and then led the way round and round the market, taking snuff savagely without a word.

But all at once he stopped and drew himself up, and gave his cane a thump on the pavement, while his son thought what a fine-looking, manly fellow he was, and what a pleasure it was to gaze upon such a specimen of humanity after the interview with the dandy they had left.

"Syd," said the captain, fiercely, "if I thought you would grow up into such an imitation man as that, confound you, sir, I'd take and pitch you over one of the bridges."

"Thank you, father. Then you don't like Captain Dashleigh?"

"Like him, sir? A confounded ungrateful dandy Jackanapes captain of a seventy-four-gun ship! Great heavens! the Government must be mad. But that's it--interest at court! Such a fellow has been promoted over the heads of hundreds of better men. All your uncle's services to him forgotten, and mine too."

"But if there wasn't room in his ship, father?"

"Room in his ship sir?" cried the captain, wrathfully. "Do you think there would not have been room in my ship for the son and nephew of two old friends? Why, hang me, if I'd been under that man's obligations, I'd have shared my cabin with the boy but what he should have gone."

"Yes, father, I think you would. So we've failed."

"Failed? Yes. No; never say die. But I'm glad. Hang him! With a captain like that, what is the ship's company likely to be! No, Syd, if you can't go afloat with a decent captain, you shall turn doctor or tailor."

"Why don't you have a ship again, father?"

"Because I have no interest, my boy, and don't go pet.i.tioning and begging at court. But they don't want sea-captains now, they want scented popinjays. Why, Syd, I've begged for a ship scores of times during the past two years, but always been pa.s.sed over. I wouldn't care if they'd appoint better men; but when I see our best vessels given to such things as that! Oh, hang it, I shall be saying what I shall be sorry for if I go on like this. Come and have a walk. No; I'll go to the Admiralty, and see if I can get a hearing there. If I can't--if they will not help me to place my boy in the service which all the Beltons have followed for a hundred and fifty years, I'll--There, come along, boy, the world is not perfect."

He walked sharply down into the Strand and then on to Whitehall, where he turned into the Admiralty Yard, and sent in his card to one of the chief officials, who kept him waiting two hours, during which the captain fumed to see quite a couple of score naval officers go in and return, while he was pa.s.sed over.

"Here you see an epitome of my life during the past fifteen years, Syd,"

he said, bitterly. "Always pa.s.sed over and--"

"His lordship will see you now, if you please," said an official.

"Hah! pretty well time," muttered the captain. "Come along, Syd."

They followed the clerk along a gloomy pa.s.sage, and were shown into a dark room where a fierce-looking old gentleman in powder and queue sat writing, but who laid down his pen and rose as Captain Belton's name was announced; shook hands cordially, and then placed his hands upon his visitor's shoulders and forced him into an easy-chair.

"Sit down, Harry Belton, sit down," he cried. "Sorry to keep you waiting, but wanted to get rid of all my pet.i.tioners and visitors, so as to be free for a long talk. Why, I haven't seen you or heard of you these ten years."

"Not for want of my applying for employment, my lord," said Captain Belton, stiffly.

"But then I've not been in office, my dear Belton; and, hang it, man, don't 'my lord' me. And who's this?"

"My son, my lord," said the captain.

"Don't 'my lord' me, man!" cried the old gentleman, fiercely. "You always were a proud, stubborn fellow. And so this is your son, is it?"

he continued, peering searchingly in the boy's face. "Ah! chip of the old block; stubborn one too, I can see. Shake hands, sir. Now then, what are you going to be?"

"A sailor, sir--my lord, I mean."

"Don't correct yourself, boy. A sailor, eh? Like your father and grandfather before you, eh? Good; can't do better. I wish you luck, my lad. We want a school of lads of your cla.s.s. The navy's full of milksops, and dandies, and fellows who have got their promotion by favour, while men like your father, who have done good service and ought to be doing it now, instead of idling about as country gentlemen--"

"Not my fault," cried the captain, hotly. "I've begged for employment till I've grown savage, and sworn I would appeal no more."

"Hah! yes," said the old gentleman, sitting back in his chair, and holding Syd's hand still in his; "there's a deal of favour and interest in these days, my dear Belton. John Bull's ships ought to be commanded by the best men in the navy, but they're not; and those of us who would like to do away with all the corruption, can't stir. Never mind that now. Let's talk of Admiral Tom. How is the dear old boy?"

"Like I am--growing old and worn with disappointment."

"Nonsense, Belton; nonsense. We can't shape our own lives. Better make the best of things as they are. Well, my boy, what ship have you joined?"

"None, sir--yet."

"I came up to see Dashleigh, on the strength of his having been under my brother, and asked him to take my son."

"And he wouldn't, of course," said the old gentleman, more fiercely still. "Wrong man, my dear sir. Ladder kicker. And so, young sir, you haven't got a ship?"

"No; and if you could help me, my lord--"

"If you call me my lord again, Harry Belton, I won't stir a peg.--Do you know, boy, that I was once in command of a small sloop, and your father was my first officer? I say, Belton, remember those old days?"

"Ay, I do," said the captain, with his eyes lighting up.

"Remember cutting out the Spaniard at Porto Bello?"

"Yes; and the fight with the big vessel in the Gut."

"Ah, to be sure. How we made the splinters fly! Bad luck that was for those other two to come up. Rare games we had, my boy. We must get you a ship under some good captain."

"If you could do that for me," said Captain Belton, eagerly.

"Well, I can try and serve an old friend, even if he is a lazy one who likes to be in dock instead of being at sea. By the way, Belton, how old are you?"

"Fifty-eight."

"Ah, and I'm seventy. Plenty of work in me yet, though. There, I'll bear my young friend here in mind. Come and dine with me one day next week, Belton, for I must send you off now; you've had half an hour instead of five minutes. Say Monday--Tuesday."

"Thank you, no," said the captain, rising. "I've done all I can, and will get back home."

"Bah! You're a bad courtier, Belton. Stubborn as ever. You ought to hang about here, and sneak and fawn upon me, and jump at the chance of dining with me, in the hope that I might be able to help you."