In my report of what occurred in this vessel during the time I belonged to her, I must, in justice to the captains and commanders of his Majesty’s navy observe, that the case was unique of its kind—­such a character as Captain G——­ was rarely met with in the navy then, and, for reasons which I shall give, will be still more rare in future.  The first lieutenant told me that I had acted very judiciously in resisting at first his undue exertion of authority; that he was at once a tyrant, a bully, and a coward, and would be careful how he attacked me again.  “But be on your guard,” said he, “he will never forgive you; and, when he is most agreeable, there is the most mischief to be dreaded.  He will lull you into security, and, whenever he can catch you tripping, he will try you by a court-martial.  You had better go on shore, and settle all your business, and, if possible, be on board before your leave is out.  It was only your threat of writing to the port-admiral that procured you leave of absence.  You have nothing to thank him for:  he would have kept you on board if he dared.  I have never quitted the ship since I joined her; and never has a day passed without a scene similar to what you have this morning witnessed.  And yet,” continued he, “if it were not for his cruelty to the men, he is the most amusing liar I ever heard.  I am often more inclined to laugh than to be angry at him; he has a vein of wit and rich humour that runs through his composition, and never quits him.  There is drollery even in his malice, and, if we cannot get clear of him, we must make the best of him.”

I went on shore, collected all my clothes and the other articles of which I stood in need, and was on board my ship again the next morning before eight o’clock.

Chapter XVII

    He will lie, Sir, with such volubility, that you would think
    truth were a fool:  drunkenness is his best virtue; for he will be
    swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little harm.—­SHAKSPEARE.

When Captain G——­ made his appearance, he seemed to be in the most amiable humour possible.  As soon as he saw me, he said, “Ah, this is what I like; never break your leave even for five minutes.  Now that I see I can trust you, you may go on shore again as soon as you please.”

This speech might have done very well to any person before the mast; but as applied to an officer, I thought it rude and ungentlemanly.

The caterer had prepared lunch in the gun-room:  it consisted of beef-steaks and broiled bullocks’ kidneys, with fried onions; and their savoury smell rose in grateful steams up the skylight, and assailed the nostrils of the skipper.  His facetious small-talk knew no bounds; he leaned over the frame, and, looking down, said—­“I say, something devilish good going on there below!”

The hint was taken, and the first lieutenant invited him down.

“I don’t care if I do; I am rather peckish.”