r control,--
unless, indeed, we had chosen to run from the two French ships instead
of fighting them,--so it was soon over, and before noon we were all
honourably acquitted, and our side-arms returned to us with much
congratulatory handshaking on the part of the officers present. Captain
Harrison, the doctor, Lindsay, and I were invited to dine with the
admiral at his Pen that evening, and we accordingly drove out with the
last of the daylight, arriving at the house just as the sun was setting
over Hunt Bay. The admiral was the very soul of hospitality, and we
were therefore a large party, several officers from Up Park Camp and a
sprinkling of civilians being present "to take off the salt flavour"
likely to prevail from a too exclusive gathering of the naval element,
as our host laughingly put it.

Somewhat to my surprise, I found myself the lion of the evening, Captain
Harrison having most generously made the utmost of my exploit in
capturing the French schooner and my subsequent search for the frigate's
boats; and so many compliments were paid me that, being still young and
comparatively modest, I had much difficulty in maintaining my self-
possession and making suitable replies.

After dinner, and while the rest of us were chatting and smoking over
our wine, the admiral, apologising for being obliged to temporarily
absent himself, withdrew, taking Captain Harrison with him. They were
absent for nearly an hour, and when they returned there was noticeable
in the skipper's manner a subdued but joyous exultation that told of
good news. I did not, however, learn what it was until we had left the
Pen and were driving back to our hotel in Kingston by the dazzling
silver radiance of a tropical full moon. And, prior to that, the
admiral had said to me, as I bade him good-night--

"Come and see me in my office to-morrow about noon, Mr Courtenay; I
want to have a talk to you."

As soon as we were clear of the Pen grounds and fairly on our road to
Kingston, the skipper said to me--

"Mr Courtenay, do you happen to have noticed that fine frigate, the
_Minerva_, lying just inshore of the flag-ship?"

"Yes, sir, I have," said I. "She is a beauty, and is said to be a
wonderful sailer, especially on a taut bowline. I heard yesterday that
her captain is ashore, down with yellow fever."

"Very true," answered the skipper. "The poor fellow died this morning,
and the admiral has been pleased to give the command of her to