room. All I
thought of was the danger I had escaped, and how fortunate I was in not
having addressed the letter to my mother, as I had at first intended.
The agony which I felt was very great, and, as I remained with my hands
covering my eyes, I made a vow that nothing should induce me ever to use
deceit again. I then read over the letter. There was nothing but
gratitude to Lord de Versely, and a wish that I had been born a Delmar.
Well, if his lordship had run his eyes over it, there was nothing to
hurt me in his opinion; on the contrary, it proved that I was grateful;
and I then recollected that when I expressed my gratitude, he said he
believed it. As for my saying that I wished my name was Delmar, it was
nothing, and it let him know what my wishes were. On the whole, I had
great cause for congratulation.

I was here interrupted by the tailor who put his head out of the
bed-room door. I went to him, and he finished his work, and promised me
that I should have a complete suit at half-past seven o'clock in the
evening, in time for dinner. I then returned to the sitting-room, and
opened the letter which Lord de Versely had put into my hands. It was
from the first lord, acquainting him that I might call at the Admiralty
the next day, as my post-captain's commission was signed, and I was
appointed to a thirty-two gun frigate which would be launched in two or
three months. Well, then, thought I, here I am, at twenty-three, a
post-captain in his Majesty's service, and commanding a frigate.
Surely, I have much to be thankful for. I felt that I had, and I was
grateful to Heaven for my good fortune. Now I had but one more wish in
the world, and that was, instead of being Captain Keene, to be Captain
Delmar.

The reader may say, "What's in a name?" True; but such was my ambition,
my darling wish, and it is ardent longing for anything, the ardour of
pursuit, which increases the value of the object so much above its real
value. The politician, who has been manoeuvring all his life does not
perhaps feel more pleasure in grasping the coronet which he has been in
pursuit of, than the urchin does when he first possesses himself of a
nest which he has been watching for weeks. This would, indeed, be a
dreary world if we had not some excitement, some stimulus to lead us on,
which occupies our thoughts, and gives us fresh courage, when
disheartened by the knavery, and meanness, and selfishness of those who
surround us.