At the end of the fourth year, Richard Horton came back, after an
absence of five years. He was now nearly twenty, and had just passed as
lieutenant. He was bronzed with the Eastern sun, and had grown from a
good-looking boy into a handsome young man, and was perfectly conscious
of his good looks. Among his comrades, he had gained the nickname of
"The Dandy"--a name which he accepted in good part, although it had not
been intended as complimentary, for Richard Horton was by no means a
popular member of his mess.

Boys are quick to detect each other's failings, and several sharp
thrashings, when he first joined, had taught Richard that it was very
inexpedient to tell a lie on board a ship, if there was any chance of
its being detected. As he had become one of the senior midshipmen, his
natural haughtiness made him disliked by the younger lads; while, among
those of his own standing, he had not one sincere friend, for there was
a general feeling, among them, that although Richard Horton was a
pleasant companion, and a very agreeable fellow when he liked, he was
not somehow straight, not the sort of fellow to be depended upon in all
emergencies.

By the captain and lieutenants, he was considered a smart young
officer. He was always careful to do his duty, quiet, and gentlemanly
in manner, and in point of appearance, and dress, a credit to the ship.
Accordingly, all the reports that his captain had sent home of him had
been favourable.

Great as was the rage and disappointment which Richard had felt, when
he received the letter from his uncle telling him of the discovery of
his long-lost granddaughter, he had the tact to prevent any signs of