&c. &c below the
party's name for whom it was intended.
"Must let 'em know that an officer of my rank in the service knows
somewhat of the courtesies of life, eh?"
In about ten days, however, we had gotten the ship into high order and
ready for sea, and now the glory and honour of command, like my only
epaulet, that had been soaked while on duty in one or two showers, and
afterwards regularly bronzed in the sun, began to tarnish, and lose the
new gloss, like every thing else in this weary world. It was about this
time, while sitting at breakfast in the gunroom one fine morning, with
the other officers of our mess, gossiping about I hardly remember what,
that we heard the captain's voice on deck.
"Call the first lieutenant."
"He is at breakfast, sir," said the man, whoever he might have been, to
whom the order was addressed.
"Never mind then--Here, boatswain's mate--Pipe away the men who were
captured in the boats; tell them to clean themselves, and send
Mr-----to me"--(This was the officer who had been taken prisoner along
with them in the first attack)--"they are wanted in Kingston at the trial
today. Stop, tell Mr Cringle also to get ready to go in the gig."
The pirates, to the amount of forty--five, had been transferred to
Kingston jail some days previously, preparatory to their trial, which,
as above--mentioned, was fixed for this day.
We pulled cheerily up to Kingston, and, landing at the Wherry wharf,
marched along the hot dusty streets, under a broiling sun, Captain
Transom, the other Lieutenant, and myself, in full puff, leading the
van, followed by about fourteen seamen, in white straw hats, with broad
black ribbons, and clean white frocks and trowsers, headed by a
boatswain's mate, with his silver whistle hung round his neck--as
respectable a tail as any Christian could desire to swinge behind him;
and, man for man, I would willingly have perilled my promotion upon
their walloping, with no offensive weapons but their stretchers, the
Following, claymores and all, of any proud, disagreeable, would--be
mighty mountaineer, that ever turned up his supercilious, whisky
blossomed snout at Bailie Jarvie.
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