"Pray, sir, what ship do you belong to?"

"Sir," said I, proud to be thus interrogated, "I belong to His
Majesty's ship, the _Le----_" (having a French name, I clapped on both
the French and English articles, as being more impressive).

"Oh, you do, do you?" said the veteran with an air of conscious
superiority; "then you will be so good as to turn round, go down to
Mutton Cove, take a boat, and have your person conveyed with all
possible speed on board of His Majesty's ship the _Lee_" (imitating
me); "and tell the first lieutenant it is my order that you be not
allowed any more leave while the ship is in port; and I shall tell
your captain he must teach his officers better manners than to pass
the port-admiral without touching their hats."

While this harangue was going on, I stood in a circle, of which I was
the centre, and the admiral and the captains formed the circumference;
what little air there was their bodies intercepted, so that I was not
only in a stew, but stupefied into the bargain.

"There, sir, you hear me--you may go."

"Yes, I do hear you," thinks I; "but how the devil am I to get away
from you?" for the cruel captains, like school-boys round a rat-trap,
stood so close that I could not start. Fortunately, this my blockade,
which they no doubt intended for their amusement, saved me for that
time. I recollected myself, and said, with affected simplicity of
manner, that I had that morning put on my uniform for the first time;
that I had never seen my captain, and never was on board a ship in all
my life. At this explanation, the countenance of the admiral relaxed