earce walked away when Verner spoke in
that style, or when at table, and he could not move, pretended not to
hear what was said.

The fleet reached Portsmouth. Great was the satisfaction of the British
nation at the victory won. The good King George the Third and the kind
Queen Charlotte went on board all the ships and visited the wounded;
honours were awarded to the chiefs, and those officers who had
especially distinguished themselves were presented to their Sovereigns.
Among others was Pearce Ripley, as the midshipman who had helped to take
the "Impetueux." The "Marlborough's" crew declared on this that he was
a marked man and must get on in the service. The remark greatly excited
Harry Verner's indignation and wrath. "It is high time for me to quit
the service after this," he remarked, when the King patted Pearce on the
head, but did not even glance towards him. Of memorable days in English
history, the 1st of June, 1794, stands justly prominent.

II.

The "Marlborough," though victorious, had received so tremendous a
battering from her numerous opponents, that it was very clear the stout
craft could not again go to sea without a thorough repair. Her officers
and crew were therefore distributed among other ships then fitting out,
and thus Pearce, for the first time in his life, was separated from his
father, to whom he had always been accustomed to look up for guidance
and advice. In some respects this might have been an advantage to the
young midshipman, but the parting cost both more pains than either
confessed. "I am no great preacher, my boy, but remember there's One
ever watching over you, and He'll be true to you if you try honestly to
be true to Him," said the boatswain, as he wrung his son's hand, and
stepped down the side of the fine frigate to which Pearce through the
interest of his late captain had been appointed. The crew went tramping
round the capstan to the sound of the merry fife, the anchor was away,
and under a wide spread of snowy canvas the dashing "Blanche" of
thirty-two guns, commanded by the gallant Captain Faulkner, stood
through the Needle passage between the Isle of Wight and the main, on
her way down channel, bound out to the West Indies. It was a station
where hurricanes, yellow fever, and sicknesses, and dangers of all sorts
were to be encountered, but it was also one where enemies were to be met
with, battles to be fought, prizes to be captured, and prize-money to be
made