Chapter 69 - Page 2

of his subordinates, to whom he never deigns to
vouchsafe a syllable, merely going through the motions of accepting
their news, without bestowing thanks for their pains.

This continual touching of caps between officers on board a man-
of-war is the reason why you invariably notice that the glazed
fronts of their caps look jaded, lack-lustre, and worn; sometimes
slightly oleaginous--though, in other respects, the cap may
appear glossy and fresh. But as for the First Lieutenant, he
ought to have extra pay allowed to him, on account of his
extraordinary outlays in cap fronts; for he it is to whom, all
day long, reports of various kinds are incessantly being made by
the junior Lieutenants; and no report is made by them, however
trivial, but caps are touched on the occasion. It is obvious that
these individual salutes must be greatly multiplied and
aggregated upon the senior Lieutenant, who must return them all.
Indeed, when a subordinate officer is first promoted to that
rank, he generally complains of the same exhaustion about the
shoulder and elbow that La Fayette mourned over, when, in
visiting America, he did little else but shake the sturdy hands
of patriotic farmers from sunrise to sunset.

The various officers of divisions having presented their
respects, and made good their return to their stations, the First
Lieutenant turns round, and, marching aft, endeavours to catch
the eye of the Captain, in order to touch his own cap to that
personage, and thereby, without adding a word of explanation,
communicate the fact of all hands being at their gun's. He is a
sort of retort, or receiver-general, to concentrate the whole sum
of the information imparted to him, and discharge it upon his
superior at one touch of his cap front.

But sometimes the Captain feels out of sorts, or in ill-humour,
or is pleased to be somewhat capricious, or has a fancy to show a
touch of his omnipotent supremacy; or, peradventure, it has so
happened that the First Lieutenant has, in some way, piqued or
offended him, and he is not unwilling to show a slight specimen
of his dominion over him, even before the eyes of all hands; at
all events, only by some one of these suppositions can the
singular circumstance be accounted for, that frequently Captain
Claret would pertinaciously promenade up and down the poop,
purposely averting his eye from the First Lieutenant, who would
stand below in the most awkward suspense, waiting the first wink
from his superior's eye.

"Now I have him!" he must have said to himself, as the Captain
would turn toward him in his walk; "now's my time!" and up would
go his hand to his cap; but, alas! the Captain was off again; and
the men at the guns would