Captain Wilson approved of the decision, and Jack left the service.  At his request, his devoted admirer Mesty—­an abbreviation of Mephistopheles—­an African, once a prince in Ashantee and now the cook of the midshipmen’s mess, was allowed to leave the service and accompany our hero to England as his servant.

From the first utterances of Jack on the subject of liberty and equality, he had won Mesty’s heart, and in a hundred ways the black had proved his fidelity and attachment.  His delight at going home with his patron was indescribable.

Jack had not written to his father to announce his arrival, and when he reached home he found things worse than he expected.

His father was at the mercy of his servants, who, insolent and insubordinate, robbed, laughed at, and neglected him.  The waste and expense were enormous.  Our hero, who found how matters stood, soon resolved what to do.

He rose early; Mesty was in the room, with warm water, as soon as he rang.

“By de power, Massa Easy, your fader very silly old man!”

“I’m afraid so,” replied Jack.  “How are they getting on in the servants’ hall?”

“Regular mutiny, sar—­ab swear dat dey no stand our nonsense, and dat we both leave the house to-morrow.”

Jack went to his father.

“Do you hear, sir, your servants declare that I shall leave your house to-morrow.”

“You leave my house, Jack, after four years’ absence!  No, no, I’ll reason with them—­I’ll make them a speech.  You don’t know how I can speak, Jack.”

“Look you, father, I cannot stand this.  Either give me carte blanche to arrange this household as I please, or I shall quit it myself to-morrow morning.”

“Quit my house, Jack!  No, no—­shake hands and make friends with them; be civil, and they will serve you.”

“Do you consent, sir, or am I to leave the house?”

“Leave the house!  Oh, no; not leave the house, Jack.  I have no son but you.  Then do as you please—­but you will not send away my butler—­he escaped hanging last assizes on an undoubted charge of murder?  I selected him on purpose, and must have him cured, and shown as a proof of a wonderful machine I have invented.”

“Mesty,” said Jack, “get my pistols ready for to-morrow morning, and your own too—­do you hear?  It is possible, father, that you may not have yet quite cured your murderer, and therefore it is as well to be prepared.”

Mr. Easy did not long survive his son’s return, and under Jack’s management, in which Mesty rendered invaluable assistance, the household was reformed, and the estate once more conducted on reasonable lines.

A year later Jack was married, and Mesty, as major domo, held his post with dignity, and proved himself trustworthy.

* * * * *

Peter Simple