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Updated: June 20, 2025
But the men had, for some reason or other, kindled a large fire, round which they were holding their carouse, and Damerell could only hope that the brilliant blaze would dazzle their eyes, and blind them to everything beyond the circle of its influence. Perhaps it did so, for when they reached the ship there was no sign of pursuit.
For, whereas she had before been obliged to wait for her lesson until Ned's trick came round, she now simply watched her opportunity, and whenever she saw that the young man had nothing very particular to do, she would go up to him and say, "Mr Damerell, is it convenient for you to give me a steering-lesson?"
Young Edward Damerell, born and brought up within sight and sound of the sea, early manifested a natural desire to tread in his father's footsteps by following the same profession. To this the old gentleman made no very serious objection, but he would not hear of his son entering the navy. The service, he insisted, had been ruined by the introduction of steam and armour-plates.
Captain Blyth was simply in a beatitude of bliss; he walked the poop to and fro, rubbing his hands gleefully, chuckling, and audibly murmuring little congratulatory ejaculations to himself, fragments of which such as "new hat astonish that fellow Spence above a trifle, I flatter myself reach the Heads a clear week before him," etcetera etcetera Ned Damerell caught from time to time as the skipper trotted past him.
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