words to that effect.  Then Miss MILLWARD chimed in, and thus touched the heart of Lieutenant WARNER, R.N., so deeply that he ordered Mr. GLENNEY’s immediate release.  “I forget my duty,” explained the generous WARNER.  “But I don’t,” put in his superior officer, Captain WILLIAM LUGG VERNON, “and I order that man to be carried on board!” and there was not a dry eye amongst those present, except, perhaps, amongst the heartless “Press Gang,” who, having to write notices for the daily and weekly papers, were naturally eager to see what “In the Fo’castle” and “The Deck of the Dauntless” were like.  And these they did see in the next Act of this really capital Drama.  And here came in a scene that will long be remembered to the honour of the British Navy and the National and Royal Theatre, Drury Lane.  There came a mutiny, with the misguided GLENNEY at the head of it.  Said Captain WILLIAM LUGG VERNON, after it was quelled, “We can’t spare a man, and so I shall have Mr. GLENNEY flogged.”  “Don’t do that,” cried Lieutenant WARNER; “he is my brother and my friend, although he has given me a oner, owing to a misunderstanding.  Captain, may I appeal to these men, and ask them in stirring language, to fight the foe.”  “You shall,” replied his superior officer; “and, by arrangement with Mr. HENRY PETTITT, I will see that ‘Rule Britannia’ is played softly by an efficient orchestra while you are speaking to them.”  “A thousand thanks!” cried the eloquent WARNER; and then he let them have it.  He told them that the enemy were waiting for them—­that they had left Brest for the purpose of engaging in a first-class naval engagement.  He pointed out that the other ships of the Fleet were on their way to the scrimmage.  “Would the gallant Dauntless be the only laggard?” “No!” shouted the now-amenable-to-naval-discipline GLENNEY, and with the rest of the malcontents, he asked to be led to glory.  It was indeed stirring to see the red-coats waving their hats on the tops of their bayonets, and the Blue Jackets brandishing their swords.  In the enthusiasm of the moment, the entire ship’s company seemed to have lost their heads, and cheers came from the deck, and the auditorium equally.  It was a moment of triumph for everyone concerned!  Everyone!  And need I say anything more?  Need I tell you how it came right in the end?  How Miss MILLWARD (who was always on the eve of being married to someone) did actually go through a civil ceremony (the French were polite even in the days before Waterloo) with the Count, which, however, failed to count (as an old wag, with a taste for ancient jests, observed to a brother droll), because the Gallic nobleman got killed immediately after the ceremony?  Need I hint that Mr. GLENNEY was falsely accused of murder, to be rescued at the right moment by the ever-useful and forgiving WARNER?  Need I say that Mr. HENRY PETTITT was cheered to the echo for his piece, and Sir AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS for his stage management?  No, for other chronicles