it better not to
communicate this good news until assurance was made doubly sure. I
hastened to Mr Drummond's, and detailed to them all that had passed.
The next day Mr Wharncliffe went with me to the Admiralty, where I had
the happiness to find that all was legal, and that Tom could only be
tried for his desertion from a man-of-war; and that if he could prove
that he was an apprentice, he would, in all probability, be acquitted.
The court-martial was summoned three days after the letter had been
received by the Admiralty. I hastened down to Chatham to be present.
It was very short; the desertion was proved, and Tom was called upon for
his defence. He produced his papers, and proved that he was pressed
before his time had expired. The court was cleared for a few minutes,
and then re-opened. Tom was acquitted on the ground of illegal
detention, contrary to Act of Parliament, and he was _free_. I returned
my thanks to Captain Maclean and his officers for their kindness, and
left the ship with Tom in the cutter, ordered for me by the first
lieutenant. My heart swelled with gratitude at the happy result. Tom
was silent, but his feelings I could well analyse. I gave to the men of
the boat five guineas to drink Tom's health, and, hastening to the inn,
ordered the carriage, and with Tom, who was a precious deposit, for upon
his welfare depended the happiness of so many, I hurried to London as
fast as I could, stopped at the Drummond's to communicate the happy
intelligence, and then proceeded to my own house, where we slept. The
next morning I dressed Tom in some of my clothes, and we embarked in the
wherry.

"Now, Tom," said I, "you must keep in the background at first, while I
prepare them. Where shall we go first?"

"Oh, to my mother," replied Tom.

We passed through Putney Bridge, and Tom's bosom heaved as he looked
towards the residence of Mary. His heart was there, poor fellow! and he
longed to fly to the poor girl and dry her tears; but his first duty was
to his parents.

We soon arrived abreast of the residence of the old couple, and I
desired Tom to pull in, but not turn his head round, lest they should
see him before I had prepared them; for too much joy will kill as well
as grief. Old Tom was not at his work, and all was quiet. I landed and
went to the house, opened the door, and found them both sitting by the
kitchen fire in silence, apparently occupied in watching the smoke as it
ascended up the