you
have had enough of it just now. You shall lay her up for the winter,
and probably before the spring we may have other work carved out for
you."

I was very glad to hear this, and very speedily got the tender
dismantled and laid up. The admiral, of course, knew more than I did as
to what was going forward, and I guessed that none of us should have
long to remain idle.

On the 20th of December, 1778, the Bristol, Raisonable, Nonsuch,
Somerset, and a fleet of transports arrived from the Delaware River; and
on the 27th Sir Peter Parker shifted his flag to the Bristol, taking
with him the officers of the Chatham and a hundred seamen. Sir Peter
Parker was now only waiting the arrival of Lord Howe, to proceed to the
West Indies to take the command there. I looked forward to the time
with great satisfaction, for I had no doubt that the admiral would give
me every opportunity in his power of winning the step I so much coveted.

Two or three days after I joined, Delisle and another old shipmate,
O'Brien, made their appearance on board the Bristol, to which I found
that they had been appointed. It was a pleasure to us all; for latterly
I had been so constantly on detached duty that we had seen but little of
each other. We were, I may truly say, like brothers, regarding each
other with the most sincere and truest affection. I doubt if any
friendship is greater than that of people thus situated. We anticipated
all sorts of fun in the West Indies; for those were the palmy days of
the islands, when the planters, or rather their managers and the
merchants residing there, lived like princes, and treated all visitors
with unbounded hospitality. It was in too many instances with them a
short life and a merry one. Delisle had been there for a short time,
and so had several of our other shipmates, and the accounts they gave
were quite sufficient to make us long to go there.

On the 4th of January Lord Howe arrived at Rhode Island, and on the 15th
we sailed thence for our destination. One thing only made me regret
leaving the American shores; the certainty that I should have no further
chance of again meeting Madeline Carlyon till the war was ended, and I
might obtain leave to go on shore to visit her no longer as the
professed enemy of her countrymen, but, as I trusted, an accepted suitor
and a friend of America and the Americans. Though I may not be
constantly mentioning her, it must not be supposed that she was ever o