Newton presented himself to the Court of Directors, who confirmed his rank, and promised him the command of the first ship which was brought forward, with flattering commendations for his gallantry in protecting property of so much value.  Newton took his leave of the august Leaden-all board, and hastened to his uncle’s house.  The door was opened by a servant who did not know him:  Newton passed him, and ran up to the drawing-room, where he found Amber in company with William Aveleyn, who was reading to her the despatch containing the account of the action with Surcoeuf.

Amber sprang into his arms.  She had grown into a tall girl of nearly fifteen, budding into womanhood and beauty:  promising perfection, although not yet attained to it.  William Aveleyn was also nearly half a foot taller; and a blush which suffused his handsome face at being surprised alone with Amber, intimated that the feelings of a man were superseding those of boyhood.

“Where is my mother?” inquired Newton.

“She is not at home, dear Newton,” replied Amber; “she walked out with your father.  They are both well.”

“And my uncle?”

“Quite well, and most anxious to see you.  He talks of nobody but you, and of nothing but your actions, which we were just reading about when you came in.  Pray, Captain Newton, may I inquire after your French friends?  What has become of them?”

“They are at Sablonniere’s hotel, Miss Amber; they have obtained their parole at the Alien-office.”

The conversation was interrupted by the return of Newton’s father and mother, and shortly afterwards Mr John Forster made his appearance.  After the first greetings and congratulations were over—­

“Well, Newton,” observed Nicholas, “so you beat off a pirate, I hear.”

“No, my dear father, we boarded one.”

“Ah! very true; I recollect—­and you killed Surcoeuf.”

“No, father, only beat him off.”

“So it was; I recollect now.  Brother John, isn’t it almost dinner time?”

“Yes, brother Nicholas, it is; and I’m not sorry for it.  Mr William Aveleyn, perhaps you’d like to wash your hands?  A lad’s paws are never the worse for a little clean water.”

William Aveleyn blushed:  his dignity was hurt:  but he had lately been very intimate at Mr Forster’s, and he therefore walked out to comply with the recommendation.

“Well, brother Nicholas, what have you been doing all day?”

“Doing all day, brother? really, I don’t exactly know.  My dear,” said Nicholas, turning to his wife, “what have I been doing all day?”

“To the best of my recollection,” replied Mrs Forster, smiling, “you have been asking when dinner would be ready.”

“Uncle Nicholas,” said Amber, “you promised to buy me a skein of blue silk.”

“Did I, my dear?  Well, so I did, I declare.  I’m very sorry—­dear me, I forgot, I did buy it.  I passed by a shop where the windows were full of it, and it brought it to my mind, and I did buy it.  It cost—­what was it, it cost?”