ss the
veteran's weatherbeaten face making him look so animated that he seemed
a different person.

Shoving out his horny fist, forgetful of the balance of snuff contained
therein, and thus causing me to sneeze again, as well as nearly blinding
me for a second time, the rough old sailor caught hold of my father's
disengaged hand with a grip of iron, shouting a welcome in his hearty,
loud voice which could have been heard across Pall Mall; for it was as
breezy as the sea, echoing in ringing accents whose cordial tones I can
almost fancy I now hear, like the surf of breakers breaking in the
distance on some rock-bound shore.

"Bless my soul, Vernon! Is that you, my lad, hey?" he roared out,
making a dandified exquisite, who was just then lounging past us, jump
into the gutter and soil his polished patent leathers in nervous alarm.
"Glad to see me, you said? Stuff and nonsense, you rascal--you're not
half so pleased as I am to clap my eyes on you again! Gad, you young
scamp, why, it seems only the other day when I sent you to the
mast-head, you remember, when you were a middy with me in the _Neptune_?
It was for cutting off the tail of my dog Ponto, and you said--though
that was all moonshine, of course--you did it to cure him of fits! By
George! what a terrible young scapegrace you were, to be sure, Vernon,
always in mischief from sunrise to gunfire, and always at loggerheads
with my first lieutenant and the master, poor old Cosine!"

CHAPTER TWO.

THE ADMIRAL SPEAKS HIS MIND.

I had been fidgeting all the time the old gentleman was speaking
squeezing Dad's hand in order to attract his attention and make him tell
me who his old friend was; but, for the moment, he was too much taken up
with the veteran's hearty greeting to give ear to me.

At last, however, in response to another squeeze of my hand, he bent
down towards me, expecting, no doubt, some such inquiry.

"Who is it, Dad?" I whispered, dying with curiosity. "Who is it?"

"Admiral Sir Charles Napier, Jack," he replied, under his breath, "late
commander-in-chief of the Baltic Fleet."

I doffed my cap at once, for I had often heard my father mention the
name of the gallant old sailor before, though I hardly expected to see
him in such a guise.

"Hullo, who've we got here?" cried the Admiral, noticing my action and
patting my head in recognition of the salute with his snuffy palm.
"Your son, Vernon, eh?"

"Yes, Admiral," said Dad, "this is my b