One day, however, I was somewhat surprised at being ordered to prepare for the official inspection of my ship, and by no less a person than Sir W. M——­himself.  I must mention that one of the crotchets of the chief was that vessels such as mine—­namely, a gunboat of the first class—­could be floated off the shore, in case of their stranding, by water-casks being lashed round them.  So orders were given that all vessels of that class were to lumber their decks with water-casks.  I did so, according to orders; but, not having the least confidence in the manner in which the commander-in-chief proposed to employ them, I utilised them, as will be seen presently, for an entirely different purpose.

The day of my ship’s inspection was evidently not one of my lucky days.  To begin with, a horrid little monkey belonging to the crew—­amusing himself running about in the hammock-nettings near to the gangway over which the great man had to pass—­seeing something he thought unusual, made a rush as the commander-in-chief was stepping on board, stooped down, and deliberately took the cocked hat off his head, dropped it into the sea, then started up the rigging chattering with delight at the mischief he had done.  The cocked hat was at once recovered, wiped dry, and placed in its proper place.  The admiral, always stern as a matter of principle, looked, after this incident, sterner than usual, hardly recognised me except by a formal bow, then proceeded to muster the officers and crew.  This over, he commenced to walk round the deck.  I remarked with pleasure his countenance change when he saw how neatly his pet water-casks were painted and lashed to the inner gunnel of the ship.  He said quite graciously, ’I am glad to see, Captain Hobart, that you pay such attention to my orders.’  I began to think I was mistaken in my idea of the man; but, alas! for my exuberance of spirits and satisfaction.  While the admiral was closely examining one of his pet casks, his face came almost in contact with the opening of the barrel, when, to his and my horror, a pretty little spaniel put out his head and licked the great man on the nose.

I shall never forget the admiral’s countenance; he turned blue with anger, drew himself up, ordered his boat to be manned, and walked over the side not saying a word to anyone.

The facts which led to this untoward occurrence were that, seeing the necessity of having my decks crowded with what I considered useless lumber, in the form of water-casks, I had utilised them by making them into dog-kennels.  The admiral hated dogs, hated sport of all kind, and, after what occurred, I fancy hated me.  Well, I didn’t love him; I never saw him again.

The very next day I was ordered to the coast of Syria:  just what I wanted, i.e., to be out of the commander-in-chief’s way, and to have some good shooting.

CHAPTER X.

BLOCKADE-RUNNING.