Chapter V

"Rock of Lisbon's just sighted, gentlemen," the steward informed us as we sat at breakfast in the cuddy of the _Morning Star_, a wall-sided old brig which the transport authorities considered quite good enough to convey his Majesty's troops from the Thames to the Tagus.

Three weeks and five days had elapsed since we embarked at Northfleet, and we were all heartily sick of being cooped up in our dirty "floating home." The voyage had been unusually tedious, owing to bad weather, head winds, and the wretched sailing of the brig, so the prospect of once more stretching our legs on _terra firma_ was very welcome.

"We should be at anchor before dusk," said Major Warrington.

"What a blessing!" ejaculated Frank Bradley, a newly fledged cornet, and the only 14th officer on board besides the major.

"Praise the saints! we'll be clear of this ould flea-trap in a few hours," exclaimed Doctor Mulcahy, the surgeon in medical charge of the drafts. "I give ye me word of honour, major, that since I came on board, me life's been one prolonged scratch! As for the poor fellows on the troop-deck, their state just beggars description."

"Then pray don't attempt to describe it, doctor," laughed the major. "We know by experience that your descriptions are sometimes rather too vivid. Come on deck, Wilmot, and take your first look at Portugal."

Major Warrington had treated me with the greatest kindness and generosity, and but for my anxiety to receive some news from home, I should have felt perfectly happy and contented despite the discomforts of the voyage. As I had only a few pounds with me, and no "kit" except what I stood up in, the major insisted on being my banker until I could get remittances from my father. I had purchased some necessaries at Northfleet, and young Bradley was very glad to part with superfluous articles of the preposterous outfit with which a London tailor had saddled him; thus I was able to present a respectable appearance as a gentleman volunteer.

The _Morning Star_ anchored in the Tagus, just abreast of Belem, in the afternoon of the 5th April. Hardly was our anchor down when we were hailed from the deck of a British corvette which lay in the river half a cable's length ahead of us.

"What brig is that?"

"_Mornin' Star_, transport; with drafts of the 14th Light Dragoons and 3rd and 66th Regiments. One hundred and fifty-eight all told," shouted our skipper. "Three weeks out of the Thames."

"Have you a Major Warrington of the 14th on board?" was the next question.

"We has," bawled the skipper. "He commands the troops."

"What can they want with me?" said the major, who had just come on deck.

"You'll soon know, major," observed Bradley, "for they're sending a boat off. Here she comes! Look at the Portuguese bumboats scuttling out of her way!" And the next minute the corvette's gig ran alongside, and a smart little midshipman sprang up the accommodation ladder.

"Major Warrington?" he said, looking inquiringly round.

"My name is Warrington, young gentleman," the major answered, stepping forward.

"Captain Calvert's compliments, sir, and will you kindly come on board the _Alacrity_. He has brought out a packet of letters for you."

"Do you belong to the _Alacrity_?" said the major in a tone of surprise. "Why, when did she sail from Portsmouth?"

"On the 25th of last month, sir, and anchored here this morning," the middy replied. "We met with beastly weather in the Bay, or should have got in two days ago." Then with an impudent look on his chubby face, he said to our skipper, "You left the Thames on the 12th, I believe? By George! your old hooker has taken her time over the passage. How many knots can she do at a pinch?" But the surly old shellback walked forward without vouchsafing an answer, beyond growling something about the "cheek of them young reefers."

Telling the middy that he would be with him in five minutes, Major Warrington took me aside, and informed me that Captain Calvert of the _Alacrity_ was Lord Buckland's cousin, and that probably the letters he had brought out referred to my case.

"Would they have had time to write, sir?" I questioned.

"Before the _Alacrity_ sailed?--yes, I think so," he replied. "The letters we wrote from Northfleet must have reached your father and Buckland by the 14th, and you may be sure they would not let the grass grow under their feet. I met Captain Calvert at Buckland, and he was then under orders to sail on the 30th March, but it appears he had to put to sea on the 25th. No doubt Lord Buckland knew of this, and took the opportunity to forward our letters."

"I hope they bring good news," I sighed. "I feel very anxious, major."

"Nonsense, boy; keep up your spirits, and I'll wager a guinea I shall be able to tell you that everything has been satisfactorily arranged as far as you are concerned. If it were bad news my brother-in-law would not have been in a hurry to write. Now I must not keep the captain's gig waiting, so I am off."

The major proved a true prophet. In less than half-an-hour he returned to the brig, bringing me a letter from my father. The letter was couched in most affectionate terms, without a single word of reproach. To my great relief I now learned that neither Septimus Blagg nor Dobbs had been seriously injured; but the latter got such a shock, that thinking he was dying he made a full confession of the plot which he and Septimus had hatched against me. As to wishing to prosecute, the two scoundrels were thankful to escape being indicted for conspiracy. My father wound up by saying that I could return home at once if I chose, but he thought that now I had started on a military career it would be well for me to keep to it, at any rate for the present. Harry Symes could go back to the rectory, or remain with me as he pleased. A banker's bill for £200 was enclosed, and the letter concluded with affectionate wishes for my welfare.

"Now, my boy," said Major Warrington, when I had finished reading the letter, "you will commence your military life with an easy mind! I have one more piece of news for you," he added. "Buckland has seen Lord L----, and obtained a promise that you shall have the first vacant cornetcy in the 14th. So, Wilmot, we must pray that there be no change in the Ministry for some little time to come."