Part 12 (2/2)
Fernando, naturally witty, soon ingratiated himself into this well occupied clique, and he dosed them with glory to their heart's content.
He resolved at once to enter into their humor, and as the wine mounted up to his brain, he gradually found his acquaintance and politics extending to every country and political creed.
”Did you know Thomas Matson of his majesty's s.h.i.+p _Spit-Fire?”_ asked the lieutenant.
”Tom Matson!” cried Fernando. ”Indeed I did sir, and do still! and there is not a man in the British navy I am prouder of knowing.” Of course he had never heard of Thomas Matson until this moment.
”You don't say, sir?” said the lieutenant in astonishment. ”Has he any chance of promotion, sir?”
”Promotion!” cried Fernando, in well-feigned astonishment. ”Why, have you not heard that he is already in command of a s.h.i.+p? You cannot possibly have heard from him lately, or you would have known that!”
”That's true, sir; I have not heard from him since he quitted the _Black Cloud_ in the South, I think they said for his health; but how did he get the step?”
”Why, as to the promotion, that was remarkable enough,” said Fernando, quaffing off a tumbler of champagne to aid his inventive faculties; but Fernando, despite his native shrewdness and wonderful inventive powers, was liable to get into trouble. He knew as little about a s.h.i.+p as a landlubber might be supposed to know, and his companion saw at once that he would make a mess of the story, so he came to his rescue by informing the a.s.sembly that a fine vocalist at the other end of the room was going to sing, and asked that the story be deferred until after the song. They all hurried away save Fernando, who, overcome by too deep potations, sank upon a sofa temporarily unconscious.
He was roused from his stupor by his companion shaking him and saying:
”Fernando, me boy, it's a divil's own mess ye are makin' of this! Wake up and get out!”
He roused himself and looked about. The room they were in was a small apartment off the great saloon, and through the half-open folding-door, he could see that the festivities still continued. The music and gay forms of dancers reminded him where he was.
”Fernando, we've played this game jist as long as we can, successfully; we had better go.”
”I am ready,” and Fernando got up and started diagonally across the room, stepping with his feet very wide apart. The pretended Lord Kildee took his arm, and they got to the door, where Fernando missed his footing and went tumbling down the steps in a very undignified manner.
His lords.h.i.+p, Kildee, having imbibed rather freely himself, kept him company, and for a few seconds they remained at the bottom of the flight, dividing their time between studying astronomy and the laws of gravitation.
Fernando had badly smashed the captain's chapeau and one fine plume was gone. They had not gone far before they ran upon a watchman, who threatened to run them in; but the police of those days were as susceptible to a bribe as they are to-day, and after donating liberally to the cause of justice and protection, they were taken to their rooms instead of the calaboose.
Young Stevens had no definite recollection of how he ever got to bed; but he awoke next morning with a wretched headache and found himself in a red coat, with the epaulets and gold lace of an officer. By degrees, the whole thing came back to him.
Terrence came in a few moments later, a smile on his face, as he remarked they were in ”the divil's own sc.r.a.pe.”
”Why?” asked Fernando.
”We should have taken the clothes back to the captain.”
Fernando, who was in total ignorance of the manner in which the uniform was procured, asked:
”How did you get them?”
Terrence told him the whole story, and Fernando, despite his wretched headache, laughed until the tears coursed down his cheeks.
”That's not all, me foine boy. The whole thing is out. The papers printed this morning are full of it. They say the captain was seen just before daylight goin' down the street to his boat with a sheet wrapped about him.”
Again the youngsters roared. It was such a madcap frolic as students, utterly reckless of consequences, might engage in; but, after all, it was a serious affair. The clothes had to be returned; then the perpetrators of the outrage would be known at the college, and they might be expelled from the inst.i.tution in disgrace.
The clothes were returned. That was a point of honor which Fernando insisted upon, as he would neither agree to steal or wear stolen goods.
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