sion down,
when I foolishly requested that untimely forbearance. I was then
suffering an anguish of mind, to which any pain of the body I may now
endure, is an elysium; your self-denial gave time--"

"For the _heart_ to prompt you to that which your feelings yearned to do
from the first, Bluewater," interrupted Sir Gervaise. "And, now, as your
commanding officer, I enjoin silence on this subject, _for ever_."

"I will endeavour to obey. It will not be long, Oakes, that I shall
remain under your orders," added the rear-admiral, with a painful smile.
"There should be no charge of mutiny against me in the _last_ act of my
life. You ought to forgive the one sin of omission, when you remember
how much and how completely my will has been subject to yours, during
the last five-and-thirty years,--how little my mind has matured a
professional thought that yours has not originated!"

"Speak no more of 'forgive,' I charge you, Dick. That you have shown a
girl-like docility in obeying all my orders, too, is a truth I will aver
before God and man; but when it comes to _mind_, I am far from asserting
that mine has had the mastery. I do believe, could the truth he
ascertained, it would be found that I am, at this blessed moment,
enjoying a professional reputation, which is more than half due to you."

"It matters little, now, Gervaise--it matters little, now. We were two
light-hearted and gay lads, Oakes, when we first met as boys, fresh from
school, and merry as health and spirits could make us."

"We were, indeed, Dick!--yes, we were; thoughtless as if this sad moment
were never to arrive!"

"There were George Anson, and Peter Warren, little Charley Saunders,
Jack Byng, and a set of us, that did, indeed, live as if we were never
to die! We carried our lives, as it might be, in our hands, Oakes!"

"There is much of that, Dick, in boyhood and youth. But, he is happiest,
after all, who can meet this moment as you do--calmly, and yet without
any dependence on his own merits."

"I had an excellent mother, Oakes! Little do we think, in youth, how
much we owe to the unextinguishable tenderness, and far-seeing lessons
of our mothers! Ours both died while we were young, yet I do think we
were their debtors for far more than we could ever repay."

Sir Gervaise simply assented, but making no immediate answer, otherwise,
a long pause succeeded, during which the vice-admiral fancied that his
friend was beginning to doze. He was mistaken