In due time a fine boy was born, who was christened by the name of Peregrine, the Commodore assisting at the ceremony as godfather.  On Mrs. Pickle assuming the management of household affairs, Miss Grizzle directed her operations upon the Commodore, whom she was resolved to captivate and enslave, in spite of his well-known distrust of matrimony.

Mr. Pickle had early learnt the singular character of his neighbour Trunnion from a loquacious publican at whose house he was accustomed to call.  “The Commodore and your worship,” said he, “will in a short time be hand in glove; he has a power of money and spends it like a prince; though, to be sure, he is a little humoursome, and swears roundily, though I’ll be sworn he means no more harm than a sucking babe.  Lord have mercy upon us! he’s been a great warrior in his time, and lost an eye and a heel in the service.  Then he does not live like any other Christian landman; but keeps garrison in his house, as if he were in the midst of his enemies, and makes his servants turn out in the night, watch and watch, as he calls it, all the year round.  His habitation is defended by a ditch, over which he has laid a drawbridge, and planted his court-yard with pateroes continually loaded with shot, under the direction of one Mr. Hatchway, who had one of his legs shot away, while he acted as lieutenant on board the Commodore’s ship; and now being on half pay, lives with him as his companion.  The Lieutenant is a very brave man, a great joker, and, as the saying is, hath got the length of his commander’s foot; though he has another favourite in the house, called Tom Pipes, that was his boatswain’s mate, and now keeps the servants in order.  Tom is a man of few words, but an excellent hand at a song, concerning the boatswain’s whistle, husslecap, and chuck-farthing—­there is not such another pipe in the country.  So that the Commodore lives very happy in his own manner; though he be sometimes thrown into perilous passions and quandaries, and exceedingly afflicted with goblins that disturb his rest.  Bless your honour’s soul, he is a very oddish kind of a gentleman.  I don’t think he would marry the Queen of Sheba.  Lackaday! sir, he won’t suffer his own maids to speak in the garrison, but turns them into an outhouse before the watch is set.”

However, Hatchway entered spiritedly into Miss Grizzle’s cause by working on the fears of the Commodore.  He prevailed upon Pipes to get up on the top of the chimney belonging to the Commodore’s chamber at midnight, and to hollow through a speaking-trumpet, “Trunnion! turn out and be spliced, or lie still and be damned!” By this, and other stratagems, Trunnion’s obstinacy was overcome.  He wiped the sweat from his forehead, and heaving a piteous groan yielded to the remonstrances of Hatchway in these words:  “Well, since it must be so, I think we must e’en grapple.  But ’tis a hard case that a fellow of my years should be compelled, d’ye see, to beat up to windward all the rest of his life, against the current of his own inclination.”