or employment, my lord," said Captain
Belton, stiffly.

"But then I've not been in office, my dear Belton; and, hang it, man,
don't `my lord' me. And who's this?"

"My son, my lord," said the captain.

"Don't `my lord' me, man!" cried the old gentleman, fiercely. "You
always were a proud, stubborn fellow. And so this is your son, is it?"
he continued, peering searchingly in the boy's face. "Ah! chip of the
old block; stubborn one too, I can see. Shake hands, sir. Now then,
what are you going to be?"

"A sailor, sir--my lord, I mean."

"Don't correct yourself, boy. A sailor, eh? Like your father and
grandfather before you, eh? Good; can't do better. I wish you luck, my
lad. We want a school of lads of your class. The navy's full of
milksops, and dandies, and fellows who have got their promotion by
favour, while men like your father, who have done good service and ought
to be doing it now, instead of idling about as country gentlemen--"

"Not my fault," cried the captain, hotly. "I've begged for employment
till I've grown savage, and sworn I would appeal no more."

"Hah! yes," said the old gentleman, sitting back in his chair, and
holding Syd's hand still in his; "there's a deal of favour and interest
in these days, my dear Belton. John Bull's ships ought to be commanded
by the best men in the navy, but they're not; and those of us who would
like to do away with all the corruption, can't stir. Never mind that
now. Let's talk of Admiral Tom. How is the dear old boy?"

"Like I am--growing old and worn with disappointment."

"Nonsense, Belton; nonsense. We can't shape our own lives. Better make
the best of things as they are. Well, my boy, what ship have you
joined?"

"None, sir--yet."

"I came up to see Dashleigh, on the strength of his having been under my
brother, and asked him to take my son."

"And he wouldn't, of course," said the old gentleman, more fiercely
still. "Wrong man, my dear sir. Ladder kicker. And so, young sir, you
haven't got a ship?"

"No; and if you could help me, my lord--"

"If you call me my lord again, Harry Belton, I won't stir a peg.--Do you
know, boy, that I was once in command of a small sloop, and your father
was my first officer? I say, Belton, remember those old days?"

"Ay, I do," said the captain, with his eyes lighting up.

"Remember cutting out the Spaniard at Porto Bello?"

"Yes; and the fight with the big vessel in the Gut."

"Ah, to be sur