having previously marked the prevailing
prejudice of men-of-war's men to that much-maligned class of mariners,
I had wisely held my peace concerning stove boats on the coast of Japan.

CHAPTER V.

JACK CHASE ON A SPANISH QUARTER-DECK.

Here, I must frankly tell a story about Jack, which as touching his
honour and integrity, I am sure, will not work against him, in any
charitable man's estimation. On this present cruise of the frigate
Neversink, Jack had deserted; and after a certain interval, had been
captured.

But with what purpose had he deserted? To avoid naval discipline? To
riot in some abandoned sea-port? for love of some worthless signorita?
Not at all. He abandoned the frigate from far higher and nobler, nay,
glorious motives. Though bowing to naval discipline afloat; yet ashore,
he was a stickler for the Rights of Man, and the liberties of the
world. He went to draw a partisan blade in the civil commotions of
Peru; and befriend, heart and soul, what he deemed the cause of the
Right.

At the time, his disappearance excited the utmost astonishment among
the officers, who had little suspected him of any such conduct of
deserting.

"What? Jack, my great man of the main-top, gone!" cried the captain;
"I'll not believe it."

"Jack Chase cut and run!" cried a sentimental middy. "It must have been
all for love, then; the signoritas have turned his head."

"Jack Chase not to be found?" cried a growling old sheet-anchor-man,
one of your malicious prophets of past events: "I though so; I know'd
it; I could have sworn it--just the chap to make sail on the sly. I
always s'pected him."

Months passed away, and nothing was heard of Jack; till at last, the
frigate came to anchor on the coast, alongside of a Peruvian sloop of
war.

Bravely clad in the Peruvian uniform, and with a fine, mixed martial
and naval step, a tall, striking figure of a long-bearded officer was
descried, promenading the Quarter-deck of the stranger; and
superintending the salutes, which are exchanged between national
vessels on these occasions.

This fine officer touched his laced hat most courteously to our
Captain, who, after returning the compliment, stared at him, rather
impolitely, through his spy-glass.

"By Heaven!" he cried at last--"it is he--he can't disguise his
walk--that's the beard; I'd know him in Cochin China.--Man the first
cutter there! Lieutenant Blink, go on board that sloop of war, and
fetch me yon officer."