Midshipman Quinn

— 4 —

"I'm no hand at speeches, Mr. Quinn, sir," said Tod Beamish, looking down awkwardly from his six-and-a-half feet, "but — well, I'd not be here, but for you. Thankee, sir."

"Pray don't mention it, Beamish," replied Mr. Midshipman Quinn gravely. "Who knows? You may have occasion to do the same for me one day."

It was the morning after Septimus had been sent to the masthead, and the Althea was flying across a rolling blue sea under all plain sail. The gale had blown itself out In the night. From the maindeck where the two were standing, swaying easily to the motion of the vessel, the Spanish coast could just be seen as a long pale-brown line on the eastern horizon.

"I trust," Septimus added, "that your head is mending?" Beamish raised a hand to the bandage that swathed his tow coloured head.

"Mending well, sir," he grinned. "Surgeon says it's lucky it was me head that was hit — any other part of me would have been bust good and proper, he says."

He knuckled his forehead in a gesture of salute and trotted away as Midshipman the Honourable Charles Barry, very trim in his uniform coat with telescope under arm, hurried up from the direction of the quarterdeck.

"Captain's compliments, Mr. Quinn," he said with great solemnity, "and he'll be infinitely obliged if you'd do him the honour of being so good as to step to the quarterdeck for a word with him."

"Pray inform Captain Sainsbury that I can spare him a moment of my valuable time and will be with him directly," returned Septimus with equal solemnity.

"And you'd better step lively, Sep," added Barry, a grin displacing his gravity. "You know he don't like to be kept waiting."

As he made all speed for the quarterdeck, Septimus remembered Charles Barry's silent grip of the hand when he had come down from his ordeal of yesterday, and felt that he was no longer "one out" in the midshipmen's berth.

Captain Sainsbury, a tall lean figure in blue coat and white knee-breeches, was standing at the quarterdeck rail gazing towards the coast of Spain. He raised a thin hand to his cocked hat in acknowledgment of the midshipman's stiff salute, and then turned away to resume his gazing.

"Mr. Quinn," he said without looking round, "I do not propose to ask you which gentleman of the midshipmen's berth conceived the idea of dicing instead of studying during the afternoon watch yesterday. I would only say that such procedure is not Duty."

He paused.

"No, sir," said Septimus.

"Nor," continued the captain, still without turning, "can I make any comment on Mr. Pyke's action in sending you to the masthead during a gale. You understand that, I hope?"

"Yes, sir," said Septimus.

"But I do propose," went on his superior officer, "to congratulate you on a brave and seamanlike piece of work, Mr. Quinn."

Captain Sainsbury swung round suddenly to face his junior midshipman. His stern face was lighted by the first smile Septimus had ever seen there.

"Mr. Quinn," he said, "I think that some day we shall make a sea officer of you. That is all."

"Aye aye, sir!" said Mr. Midshipman Quinn.