"
The captain listened to my defence with attention, and I thought
seemed very much struck with it. I afterwards learnt that Mr Handstone
had received a reprimand for his harsh treatment of me; he observed,
that I should one day turn out a shining character, or go to the
devil.
It appeared pretty evident to me, that however I might have roused
the pride and resentment of the senior members of the mess by my
resistance to arbitrary power, that I had gained some powerful
friends, among whom was the captain. Many of the officers admired that
dogged, "don't care" spirit of resistance which I so perseveringly
displayed, and were forced to admit that I had right on my side. I
soon perceived the change of mind by the frequency of invitations to
the cabin and gun-room tables. The youngsters were proud to receive me
again openly as their associate; but the oldsters regarded me with
a jealousy and suspicion like that of an unpopular government to a
favourite radical leader.
I soon arranged with the boys of my own age a plan of resistance, or
rather of self-defence, which proved of great importance in our future
warfare. One or two of them had nerve enough to follow it up: the
others made fair promises, but fell off in the hour of trial. My code
consisted of only two maxims: the first was always to throw a bottle,
decanter, candlestick, knife, or fork, at the head of any person who
should strike one of us, if the assailant should appear too strong to
encounter in fair fight.
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