There were three persons only in the great saloon: an officer's
servant, whose appearance did not please me; a fine looking old man
with grey hair and whiskers, and a rough-hewn honest face,
apparently the ship's doctor; and a tall grizzled man in whom I at
once saw a sort of horrible likeness to Derrick--horrible because
this face was wicked and degraded, and because its owner was drunk--
noisily drunk. Derrick paused for a minute, looking at his father;
then, deadly pale, he turned to the old doctor. "I am Major
Vaughan's son," he said.

The doctor grasped his hand, and there was something in the old
man's kindly, chivalrous manner which brought a sort of light into
the gloom.

"I am very glad to see you!" he exclaimed. "Is the Major's luggage
ready?" he inquired turning to the servant. Then, as the man
replied in the affirmative, "How would it be, Mr. Vaughan, if your
father's man just saw the things into a cab? and then I'll come on
shore with you and see my patient safely settled in."

Derrick acquiesced, and the doctor turned to the Major, who was
leaning up against one of the pillars of the saloon and shouting out
"'Twas in Trafalgar Bay," in a way which, under other circumstances,
would have been highly comic. The doctor interrupted him, as with
much feeling he sang how:

"England declared that every man
That day had done his duty."

"Look, Major," he said; "here is your son come to meet you."