to dine in the ward-room." I meant no disrespect, for I felt
none. Perhaps the fellow who took back my answer worded it maliciously.
I had totally forgotten, as soon as I had uttered my excusal, whether I
had or had not used the word "compliments," or "respects"--perhaps
thoughtlessly, neither one nor the other.

I dined in the ward-room, enjoyed my chess, and, good, easy youth, with
all my blushing honours thick upon me, of having given mate with only
trifling odds in my favour, the drum beat to evening quarters. I was
stationed to the four aftermost carronades on the quarter-deck. I had
run up in a hurry; and at that period, straps to keep down the trousers
not having been invented, my white jeans were riddled a good deal up the
leg. I passed the captain, touched my hat, and began to muster my men.
Unconscious of any offence, I stole a look at my commander, but met with
no good-humoured glance in return. He had screwed up his little yellow
physiognomy into the shape of an ill-conditioned and battered face on a
brass knocker. He had his usual afternoon wine-flush upon him; but a
feeling of vindictiveness had placed his feelings of incipient
intoxication under complete mastery.

"So you dined in the ward-room, Mr Rattlin?"

"Yes, sir," my hat reverently touched, not liking the looks of my
interrogator.

"And you did not even condescend to return the compliments I sent you,
with my misplaced invitation to dinner."

"Don't recollect, sir."

"Mr Rattlin, in consideration of your ignorance, I can forgive a
personal affront--damme--but, by the living God, I cannot overlook
disrespect to the service. You young misbegotten scoundrel! what do
mean by coming to quarters undressed? Look at your trousers, sir!"

"The captain is in a passion, certainly," thought I, as I quietly
stooped to pull the offending garment down to my shoes.

"Mr Farmer, Mr Farmer, do you see the young blackguard?" said the
commander. "Confound me, he is making a dressing-room of my
quarter-deck--and at quarters, too--which is the same as parade.
Hither, sirrah;--ho-ho, my young gentleman. Young gentleman, truly--a
conceited little bastard!"

The word burnt deeply into my young heart, and caused a shock upon my
brain, as if an explosion of gunpowder had taken place within my skull;
but it passed instantaneously, and left behind it an unnatural calm.

"Pray, sir," said I, walking up to him, deliberately and resolutely,
"how do _you_ kn