The Portland daily press., 1894-09-07
The LONE CORVET.

"Poor Ted Poor Ted I'd give my
commission to see him again.
Captain Richard Debney of the British
navy, commander of the man of war Cor
morant, was entertaining some friends in
the harbor of San Francisco, and the talk
turned upon Ted Debney, his brother, who
had resigned from the navy several years
before because he had chivalrously pre-
vented a French cruiser from boring holes
in wretched opium smuggling craft.
Ted was impulsive, brave, daring and
loved alike by his superiors and his men.
Have you ever got on the track of Ted?"
"Once 1 thought had at Singapore,
but nothing came of it. No doubt he
changed his name He never asked for,
nor got, the legacy which my poor father
left him."
An hour later they were aboard the Cor
morant dining&with number of men
asked to come and say goodby to Mostyn,
who was starting for England the second
day following, after a pleasant cruise and
visit with Debney.
Meanwhile, from far beyond that yell
low lane of light running out from Golden
Gate there came q vessel, sailing straight
for harbor. She was a large, old fashioned
cruiser, carrying guns, and when she
passed another vessel she hoisted the Brit
ish ensign. She looked like q half obsolete
corvet, spruced up, made modern by ev-
cry possible device, and all her appoint
ments were shapely and in order. She was
clearly British man-of-war, as shown in
her trim dressed sailors, her good handful
of marines, but her second and third lieu
tenants seemed little like Englishmen, and
indeed one was an American and one was q
Hollander. There were gun drill and cut
lass drill every day, and, what was also
singular, there was boat drill twice day,
SO that the crew Of this man-of-war, as
they saw Golden Gate ahead of them, were
perhaps more expert at boat drill than any
boat that sailed. They could lower and
raise boat with wonderful experiences in
bad sea, and they rowed with clockike
precision and machinelike force.
Their general discipline did credit to
the British navy. But they wereno given
to understand that by their commander,
Captain Shewen, who had an eye like a
spot of steel and a tongue like aloes or
honey as the mood was on him.
This was most noticeable when he was
shut away from the others in his cabin.
Then his whole body seemed to change.
The eye became softer and yet full of q
sort of genial deviltry, the body had a
careless alertness and elasticity, the whole
man had the athletic grace of wild ami
NAL, and his face had hearty sort Of hui
NOR which the slightly lifting lip in its
bizarre disdain could not greatly modify.
He certainly seemed well pleased with
himself, and more than once, as he sat
alone, he laughed outright, and once he
said aloud, as his fingers ran up and down
a schedule-not a man-of-wars schedule
softly:
Poor old Farquhar, if he could see me
now" Then to himself: swell, as told
him, was violently tossed like ball into
the large country, and I've had lot of
adventure and sport. But here's some
thing more-the biggest game ever played
between nations by private person-with
$500, 900 as the end thereof, il all goes well
with my lone corvetp'
The next evening. just before dusk, after
having idled about out of sight of the sig
nal station nearly all day, Captain She
well entered Golden Gate with the Hornet
of no squadron. But the officers at the
signal station did not know that and SIM
ply telegraphed to the harbor in reply to
the signals from the corvet that British
man-of-war was arriving. She came lei
SURELY IN the bay. with Captain Shewell on