Well, again! in this book, Ingham, who had been reading it all day, had put five or six newspaper-marks.

The first was at this entry,—­

    “A new boy came into the mess.  They said he was a French boy, but
    the first luff says he is the Capptain’s own nef-few.”

Two pages on,—­

    “The French boy fought Wimple and beat him.  They fought seeventeen
    rounds.”

Farther yet,—­

    “Toney is offe on leave.  So the French boy was in oure watch.  He
    is not a French boy.  His name is Doovarl.”

In the midst of a great deal about the mess, and the fellows, and the boys, and the others, and an inexplicable fuss there is about a speculation the mess entered into with some illicit dealer for an additional supply, not of liquor, but of sugar,—­which I believe was detected, and which covers pages of badly written and worse spelled manuscript, not another distinct allusion to the French boy,—­not near so much as to Toney or Wimple or Scroop, or big Wallis or little Wallis.  Ingham had painfully toiled through it all, and I did after him.  But in another volume, written years after, at a time when the young officer wrote a much more rapid, though scarcely more legible hand, he found a long account of an examination appointed to pass midshipmen, and, to our great delight, as it began, this exclamation:—­

“When the Amphion’s boat came up, who should step up but old Den, whom I had not seen since we were in the Rainbow.  We were together all day,—­and it was very good to see him.”

And afterwards, in the detail of the examination, he is spoken of as “Duval.”  The passage is a little significant.

Young Heddart details all the questions put to him, as thus:—­

“’Old Saumarez asked me which was the narrowest part of the Channel, and I told him.  Then he asked how Silly [sic] bore, if I had 75 fathom, red sand and gravel.  I said, ‘About N.W.,’ and the old man said, ’Well, yes,—­rather West of N.W., is not it so, Sir Richard?’ And Sir Richard did not know what they were talking about, and they pulled out Mackenzie’s Survey,” etc., etc., etc.,—­more than any man would delve through at this day, unless he were searching for Paul Jones or Denis Duval, or some other hero.  “What is the mark for going into Spithead?” “What is the mark for clearing Royal Sovereign Shoals?”—­let us hope they were all well answered.  Evidently, in Mr. Heddart’s mind, they were more important than any other detail of that day, but fortunately for posterity then comes this passage:—­

“After me they called up Brooke, and Calthorp, and Clements,—­and then old Wingate, Tom Wingate’s father, who had examined them, seemed to get tired, and turned to Pierson, and said, ’Sir Richard, you ought to take your turn.”  And so Sir Richard began, and, as if by accident, called up Den.

“‘Mr. Duval,’ said he, ’how do you find the variation of the compass by the amplitudes or azimuths?’