, glory, honour, and promotion to be obtained, and who on board for
a moment balanced one against the other?

Several of Pearce's old shipmates were on board the "Blanche," and two
of his messmates, from one of whom, Harry Verner, he would rather have
been separated; the other, David Bonham, he was very glad to see.
Between Bonham and Verner the contrast was very great; for the former,
though of excellent family, was the most unpretending fellow possible,
free from pride, vanity, and selfishness, and kind-hearted, generous,
good-tempered, and the merriest of the merry. The first A.B. who
volunteered for the "Blanche," when he knew Mr Pearce had been
appointed to her, was Dick Rogers, an old friend of his father's, with
whom he had served man and boy the best part of his life; and if there
was one thing more strongly impressed on Dick's mind than another, it
was that John Ripley, the boatswain, ought to have been a post-captain.
For his father's sake Dick had at first loved Pearce, and now loved him
for his own. "Though his father isn't what he should be, he shall be,
that he shall, or it won't be my fault," he said to himself. Dick was
no scholar, and had not many ideas beyond those connected with his
profession, except that particular one in favour of Pearce which might
or might not be of any service to him, and yet let us never despise a
friend, however humble. Pearce did not, though he possibly had not read
the fable of the lion and the mouse.

Dick Rogers was short and broad in the shoulders, though not fat, with a
huge, sandy beard, a clear blue eye, and an honest smile on his lips,
and saying that he was a seaman every inch of him, he needs no further
description. Verner let it be known, among their new messmates, that
Pearce Ripley was only the boatswain's son; and hearing this, Bonham
took great care to recount to them his gallant act on the 1st of June,
and to speak otherwise in his praise. Dick forward did not fail to make
the young midshipman his theme, and there the fact of his parentage was
undoubtedly in his favour. "We shall be, no doubt, alongside an enemy
some day soon, and then will be seen what stuff the youngsters are made
of," was the remark of several on board. They were not wrong in their
prognostications. The Island of Desiderade, near Guadeloupe, was in
sight to windward. "A sail on the weather bow!" was shouted by the
look-out at the mast's head, always the keenest sighted of the seam