Pray what ship
may have had the misfortune of losing such a credit to the service?"
"Why, I belonged to the _Snapper_ cutter," replied the young lad; "I was
taken in a prize, which the commanding officer had given in my charge to
take to Gibraltar: but they won't believe that I'm an officer. I have
applied for officer's allowance and rations, and they won't give them to
me."
"Well, but they know that we are officers," replied O'Brien; "why do
they shove us in here, with the common seamen?"
"I suppose you are only put in here for the present," replied the
cutter's midshipman; "but why I cannot tell."
Nor could we, until afterwards, when we found out, as our narrative will
show, that the officer who received us from the cuirassiers had once
quarrelled with Colonel O'Brien, who first pulled his nose, and
afterwards ran him through the body. Being told by the cuirassiers that
we were much esteemed by Colonel O'Brien, he resolved to annoy us as
much as he could; and when he sent up the document announcing our
arrival, he left out the word "Officers," and put us in confinement with
the common seamen. "It's very hard upon me not to have my regular
allowance as an officer," continued the midshipman. "They only give me a
black loaf and three sous a day. If I had had my best uniform on, they
never would have disputed my being an officer; but the scoundrels who
retook the prize stole all my traps, and I have nothing but this old
jacket."
"Why, then," replied O'Brien, "you'll know the value of dress for the
future.
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