CHAPTER XI.

A SAFE RETURN.

Just at sunset that night the anxious group of officers on the dock caught sight of the smoke from the Naiad’s funnels, and in a little while the great frigate came in sight. As she neared her anchorage in the sunset glow they could see the scarcity of officers on her decks; there were only Brydell, Manning, and Buxton; for, although Verdery was on deck, he was seated in a chair with his eyes bound up.

“Gentlemen,” said Admiral Beaumont to his officers as the ship was hove to and anchored in seamanlike style, “yonder shows what can be done by a lot of schoolboys who know their duty and can do it. The eldest of those young officers, young Brydell, is scarcely more than a boy, yet he acted with all the boldness and decision of a man, and has done as well as you or I or any of us could.”

And then a cheer went up from the crowds on the dock, the admiral leading and waving his cap enthusiastically. As soon as a boat could be set off Admiral Beaumont, the captain, and the officers went aboard.

When Brydell met them at the gangway he was far from being the trim and fresh-looking young fellow he had been twenty-four hours before. His eyes were heavy from want of sleep, and his face evidently needed washing. His uniform had got wet and dried on him without improving his appearance in the least. But Admiral Beaumont saw none of this; he only wrung Brydell’s hand without speaking. Brydell, with a flush rising in his wan face, said, smiling:—

“No accidents, admiral, except Mr. Verdery’s with his eyes, and the surgeon says that will not be serious, and one staysail torn, but I think it can be mended.”

Verdery, holding on to the surgeon’s arm, rose to shake hands with the admiral. “And I wish to tell you, sir,” he said loudly so everybody could hear him, “that I was disabled at the very beginning of the storm and never gave an order, and the safety of the ship and her company is due entirely to the coolness, ability, and courage of Mr. Brydell, who commanded through it all, and that of the other officers acting under his orders.”

Brydell turned crimson; he had only done his duty, and he felt ashamed to be made a hero of in that way.

“Any other officer, I am sure, would have done as well,” he managed to stammer. “Mr. Crawford, Mr. Manning, Mr. Buxton—all did equally well.”

“Very true,” said the admiral, smiling. “It is presumed that all officers do their duty intelligently in an emergency, but it is very great good fortune for a young officer to have a chance for distinction, and to be equal to the occasion, and I desire to express my very great satisfaction at your conduct.”

The other two young midshipmen and the engineer were also highly praised, nor was Verdery’s admirable example in remaining on deck forgotten, and the Naiad was indeed a happy ship. And in a little while a boat was seen pulling from the Spitfire, and in a few minutes Captain Brydell stepped aboard the Naiad.

Brydell was so worn out with fatigue and excitement that as soon as the captain resumed command he would have gone below at once except for the expectation of seeing his father, but he waited for that. Captain Brydell had meant to shake hands with him formally in the presence of so many officers and men, but before they knew it, almost, father and son were in each other’s arms. The admiral took Brydell by the shoulder.

“Young man,” said he, “do you go below and go to sleep. Captain Brydell and I want to hear all about the affair from someone who observed your gallant conduct, and will do it justice much more than you would—so go.”

Brydell needed no second order. He went below, and throwing himself, all dressed as he was, upon his bunk, in five minutes was sleeping like a log.