that he has hitherto read, as retrospective, necessary to understand the causes of the action of our tale, but which are not the action itself. When we bring up all our ships in the next chapter, we shall sail on proudly to the catastrophe. Let us shake out our reefs, sheet home, and away.

We have not, in our hurry to get over these preliminaries, had time to make that honourable mention of Mr. Underdown that he deserves. In all his journeyings with his patron, by land or by water, he would still preserve his independence, not permitting himself to be the object of any promotion afloat, or receiving any salary for his services on shore. He thus kept a complete command over the Commodore, or at least as much as it was possible for any moral authority to exercise. Though it was never avowed between the parties, he rightly understood from whence his moderate independence arose. It was more than sufficient for all his wants, and quite enough for his ambition.

Faithfully and zealously did he keep the tacit compact with her who had once listened to and so gently reproved his love, and at the same time so nobly attempted to make gracious that reproof, by commissioning him to watch over the wild passions of her brother. And Providence seemed to regard his undying attachment to the sister, and his unremitting devotion to the brother, with an approving eye, for he had stood near the Commodore in almost every action that the latter had fought, uninjured by a wound, whilst the warrior by profession hardly ever escaped unscathed. He had, more than once, sword in hand, leapt with the Commodore and the boarders on the decks of the enemy, and had unwillingly made his blade drink the life-blood of those opposed to him. At all this, he shuddered, and, for all this, he would receive no thanks, nor ever suffer himself to be entered on the ship's books, lest his usefulness should be diminished. He had his reward in his own bosom, and in the purity and sublimity

of his unrequited but fully appreciated attachment. Passion for Lady Astell had long passed away, and given way to a holier principle—a compound of worship and of love.

In the course of this long chase, Mr. Underdown, not withstanding his habitual temperance, had nearly become a sacrifice to a tropical fever. Whilst his life was in danger, the Commodore's conduct was exemplary; and, near the sick cot of his noble and disinterested friend, he displayed all the watchfulness, and much of the tenderness of a woman. For a time, his own crew, and the ships under his command, derived much benefit from this affliction; during this his rugged temper was softened. However, long before the squadron had touched at Rio Janiero, the fever had left the patient, but had left him in so dreadful a state of exhaustion, as to threaten a decline, if the most nourishing diet and the purest of air could not be obtained; consequently, he was put on shore, to recruit, at Rio.

VOL. I.

F

Bad as was the temper of the Commodore at this juncture, he could not prevent an honourable burst of natural feeling from breaking through his morgue. He wrung the hand of the invalid, as he was lifted, in his cot, into the barge, and, imploring him to hasten to England after him, exclaimed, as he sorrowfully watched the boat nearing the shore, "God help me, and those about me!" and then, as some relief to his feelings, turned the hands up for punishment, and liberally dispensed some twenty dozen of lashes among the ship's company.

We will not dilate upon the grief of Augustus, at the departure of his tutor and his friend, nor of the general and unsophisticated sorrow of the crew; for he was, indeed, their friend. They felt, and so they expressed themselves, that all good luck had gone with him. The spirit of mercy no longer hovered over the devoted ship. Sir Octavius Bacuissart became a rigid disciplinarian, his officers a

discontented faction, and his crew little better than a band of mutineers.

It was in this tempestuous and hurried chase towards Europe, that young Astell's soul revolted against his commander, and that he mentally threw off his allegiance to him, both as his military superior and his relative. They had, for some time, been upon the coolest terms, and they now began to hate each other, or to evince feelings almost as bitter as hate. Augustus hated what he deemed the tyranny and the cruelty of his uncle and his uncle felt a deep and a gnawing resentment at the presumption of one whom he had lately loved so much, and whom he still could not help admiring, setting himself as a judge and censor upon his actions, and placing him at defiance by the rigid rectitude of his conduct. The Commodore would have made any sacrifice to have caught the young midshipman in some flagrant dereliction of duty, merely that he might have called him into his