was waiting there to receive us, and with him several Admirals of
the Fleet, as we walked down the lane of pushing, enthusiastic
Devonians, the Princess and I, and our war-worn, weather-beaten,
spoil-laden crew. Everybody was very nice about the French
frigate, and the pirate booty, and the scars still fresh on our
young limbs; yet I think what I liked best of all was, that they
all pronounced the Princess to be a duck, and a peerless, brown-
haired darling, and a true mate for a hero, and of the right
Princess-breed.

The air was thick with invitations and with the smell of civic
banquets in a forward stage; but I sternly waved all festivities
aside. The coaches-and-four I had ordered immediately on
arriving were blocking the whole of the High Street; the
champing of bits and the pawing of gravel summoned us to take our
seats and be off, to where the real performance awaited us,
compared with which all this was but an interlude. I placed the
Princess in the most highly gilded coach of the lot, and mounted
to my place at her side; and the rest of the crew scrambled on
board of the others as best they might. The whips cracked and
the crowd scattered and cheered as we broke into a gallop for
home. The noisy bells burst into a farewell peal--

Yes, that was undoubtedly the usual bell for school-room tea.
And high time too, I thought, as I tumbled out of the bath, which
was beginning to feel very hard to the projecting portions of my
frame-work. As I trotted downstairs, hungrier even than usual,
farewells floated up from the front door, and I heard the
departing voices of our angular elderly visitors as they made
their way down the walk. Man was still catching it, apparently--