Part 38 (1/2)
”The height of Julius Caesar,” said Maitland, calmly.
”I know nothing about Julius Caesar; but I 'll say this, it was a good height for a sailor in the old gun-brig days, when they never gave you much head-room 'tween decks. It don't matter so much now if every fellow in the ward-room was as tall as yourself. What's in this jar here?”
”Seltzer.”
”And this short one,--is it gin?”
”No; it's Vichy.”
”Why, what sort of stomach do you expect to have with all these confounded slops? I never tasted any of these vile compounds but once,--what they called Carlsbad,--and, by Jove, it was bad, and no mistake. It took three fourths of a bottle of strong brandy to bring back the heat into my vitals again. Why don't you tell Raikes to send you in some sherry? That old brown sherry is very pleasant, and it must be very wholesome, too, for the doctor here always sticks to it.”
”I never drink wine, except at my dinner,” was the cold and measured reply.
”You 'll come to it later on,--you 'll come to it later on,” said the Commodore, with a chuckle, ”when you 'll not be careful about the color of your nose or the width of your waistcoat. There's a deal of vanity wrapped up in abstemiousness, and a deal of vexation of spirit too.” And he laughed at his own drollery till his eyes ran over. ”You 're saying to yourself, Maitland, 'What a queer old cove that is!'--ain't you? Out with it, man! I'm the best-tempered fellow that ever breathed,--with the men I like, mind you; not with every one. No, no; old G. G., as they used to call me on board the 'Hannibal,' is an ugly craft if you board him on the wrong quarter. I don't know how it would be now, with all the new-fangled tackle; but in the old days of flint-locks and wide bores I was a dead shot. I 've heard you can do something that way?”
”A little,” said he, dryly.
”Every gentleman ought; I've always maintained it; as poor old Bowes used to say, 'With a strong head for port, and a steady hand for a pistol, a man may go a long way in this world.' There, I think it's your turn now at the pump. I've had all the talk to myself since I came in; and the most you've done has been to grant out 'Indeed!' or 'Really!'”
”I have listened, Commodore,--listened most attentively. It has been my great privilege to have heard your opinions on three most interesting topics,--women, and wine, and the duel; and, I a.s.sure you, not unprofitably.”
”I 'm not blown, not a bit run off my wind, for all that, if I was n't so dry; but my mouth is like a lime-burner's hat. Would you just touch that bell and order a little sherry or Madeira? You don't seem to know the ways of the house here; but every one does exactly as he pleases.”
”I have a faint inkling of the practice,” said Maitland, with a very peculiar smile.
”What's the matter with you this evening? You 're not like yourself one bit. No life, no animation about you. Ring again; pull it strong.
There, they'll hear that, I hope,” cried he, as, impatient at Maitland's indolence, he gave such a Jerk to the bell-rope that it came away from the wire.
”I didn't exactly come in here for a gossip,” said the Commodore, as he resumed his seat. ”I wanted to have a little serious talk with you, and perhaps you are impatient that I haven't begun it, eh?”
”It would be unpardonable to feel impatience in such company,” said'
Maitland, with a bow.
”Yes, yes; I know all that. That's what Yankees call soft sawder; but I 'm too old a bird, Master Maitland, to be caught with chaff, and I think as clever a fellow as you are might suspect as much.”
”You are very unjust to both of us if you imply that I have not a high opinion of your acuteness.”
”I don't want to be thought acute, sir; I am not a lawyer, nor a lawyer's clerk,--I'm a sailor.”
”And a very distinguished sailor.”
”That's as it may be. They pa.s.sed me over about the good-service pension, and kept 'backing and filling' about that coast-guard appointment till I lost temper and told them to give it to the devil, for he had never been out of the Admiralty since I remembered it; and I said, 'Gazette him at once, and don't let him say, You 're forgetting an old friend and supporter.'”
”Did you write that?”
”Beck did, and I signed it; for I 've got the gout or the rheumatism in these knuckles that makes writing tough work for me, and tougher for the man it's meant for. What servants they are in this house!--no answer to the bell.”
”And what reply did they make you?” asked Maitland.
”They shoved me on the retired list; and Curtis, the Secretary, said, 'I had to suppress your letter, or my Lords would certainly have struck your name off the Navy List,'--a thing I defy them to do; a thing the Queen could n't do!”