"Here, my man," said he, snapping his fingers; "an apartment at once, or
you shall pay for this nonsense, I promise you." And walked in with his
chin in the air, so grandly as to dissolve ridicule into speculation.

For an instant the chamberlain wavered, and I trembled, for I dreaded a
disgrace in Pall Mall, where the Manners might hear of it. Then fear, or
hope of gain, or something else got the better of him, for he led us to a
snug, well-furnished suite of a parlour and bedroom on the first floor,
and stood bowing in the doorway for his honour's further commands. They
were of a sort to bring the sweat to my forehead.

"Have a fellow run to bid Davenport, the tailor, come hither as fast as
his legs will carry him. And you may make it known that this young
gentleman desires a servant, a good man, mind you, with references, who
knows a gentleman's wants. He will be well paid."

That name of Davenport was a charm,--the mention of a servant was its
finishing touch. The chamberlain bent almost double, and retired,
closing the door softly behind him. And so great had been my surprise
over these last acquirements of the captain that until now I had had no
breath to expostulate.

"I must have my fling, Richard," he answered, laughing; "I shall not be a
gentleman long. I must know how it feels to take your ease, and stroke
your velvet, and order lackeys about. And when my money is gone I shall
be content to go to sea again, and think about it o' stormy nights."

This feeling was so far beyond my intelligence that I made no comment.
And I could not for the life of me chide him, but prayed that all would
come right in the end.