I fell in with several old messmates;
they congratulated me on my promotion, and declared I should give them
a dinner to wet my commission, to which I readily consented. The day
was named, and Mr Billett was ordered to provide accordingly.
Having dined _solus_, I amused myself in writing a long letter to my
dear Emily; and with the assistance of a bottle of wine, succeeded in
composing a tolerably warm and rapturous sort of a document, which
I sealed, kissed, and sent to the post-office; after which, I built
castles till bed time; but not one castle did I build, in which Emily
was not the sole mistress. I went to bed, and slept soundly; and the
next morning, by seven o'clock, I was arrayed in a spick-span new
uniform, with an immensely large epaulette stuck on my right shoulder.
Having breakfasted, I sallied out, and, in my own conceit, was as
handsome a chap as ever buckled a sword belt. I skimmed with a light
and vigorous foot down High-street.
"Boat, your honour?" said a dozen voices at once, as I reached New
Sallyport; but I was resolved that Point-street should have a look
at me, as well as High-street; so I kept a profound and mysterious
silence, and let the watermen follow me to Point, just like so many
sucking fish after a shark. I had two or three offers for volunteers
to serve with me as I went along; but they were not of the right sex,
so I did not take them.
"Boat to Spithead, your honour?" said a tough old waterman.
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