Naval Occasions, and Some Traits of the Sailor-man

  *II.*

  The Gunnery Lieutenant sat down and began laboriously dragging on hisWellington boots. His Best Man stood in front of the glass adjustingthe medals on the breast of his full-dress coat. This concluded to hissatisfaction, he picked up a prayer-book from the dressing-table--

  "Now, then, Guns, a 'dummy-run,'" and read; "N. Wilt thou have thiswoman----"

  "Why 'N'?" objected the prospective bridegroom.

  "Dunno, It says 'N' here."

  "I've never heard a parson say 'N,'" ventured the other, "but it's yearssince I saw a wedding--chuck me my braces--Well, go on." The Best Mancontinued.

  "I know that part. That's the 'I will' business,--by the way, where'sthe ring? Don't, for Heaven's sake, let it out of your sight--are mytrousers hitched up too high...?"

  "No, they're all right. Then you say: 'I, N, take thee, N----'"

  "More N's. We can't both be N--must be a misprint...." He seized thebook. "Have I got to learn all that by heart? Why don't they have aShort Course at Greenwich, or Whaley, or somewhere, about these things."I, 'N,' take thee, 'N'"--he began reading the words feverishly.

  "No--that's all right. You repeat it after the parson. And you say,'I, John Willie,' or whatever your various names might be, 'take thee,Millicent'--d'you see? Here, let me fix that epaulette."

  "Give me a cigarette, for Heaven's sake." He hurriedly scanned thepages. "Ass I was to leave it so late.... What awful things they talkabout.... Why didn't I insist on a Registry Office? Or can't you getmarried over a pair of tongs somewhere--what religion's that?"

  "Don't know--Gretna Green, or something. It's too late now. Do standstill.... Right! Where's your sword.... Gloves?" He stepped back andsurveyed his handiwork, smiling his whimsical, half-grave smile. For afew seconds the two men stood looking at each other, and the thoughtsthat passed through their minds were long, long thoughts.

  "You'll do," said the Torpedo Lieutenant at length, but there was anabsent look in his eyes, as though his thoughts had gone a long waybeyond the spare, upright figure in blue and gold. In truth they had:back fifteen years or more to a moonlit night in the club garden atMalta. Two midshipmen had finished dinner (roast chicken, rum-omelette,"Scotch-woodcock," and all the rest of it), and were experimentingdesperately with two cigars. It was Ladies' Night, and down on theterrace a few officers' wives were dining with their husbands; theFlagship's band was playing softly.

  "A fellow must make up his mind, Bill," one of the midshipmen had said."It's either one thing or the other--either the Service or Women. Youcan't serve both; and it seems to me that the Service ought to comefirst." And there and then they had vowed eternal celibacy for thebenefit of the Navy, upon which, under the good providence of God, theHonour, Safety, and Welfare of the Nation do most chiefly depend.

  Fifteen years ago...!

  "You'll do," repeated the Torpedo Lieutenant in a matter-of-fact tone,and rang the bell.

  Private Phillips of the Royal Marine Light Infantry entered with agold-necked bottle and two tumblers. The cork popped and the twoofficers raised their glasses--

  "Happy days!" said Torps.

  "Salue!" replied the other, and for a moment his eyes rested on his BestMan with something half-wistful in their regard. "D'you rememberAldershot...? The Middles: you seconded me, and we split a bottleafterwards...?"

  Torps nodded, smiling. "But this is 'Just before the battle, mother!'"They moved towards the door, and for a moment he rested his hand on theheavy epaulette beside his. "An' if you make as good a show of this asyou did that afternoon, you won't come to no 'arm, old son."