The Congo Rovers

Harry Collingwood
The Congo Rovers
A Story of the Slave Squadron
By Harry Collingwood
CHAPTER ONE.
MY FIRST APPEARANCE IN UNIFORM.
"Um!" ejaculated my father as he thoughtfully removed his double eye-
glass from his nose with one hand, and with the other passed a letter to
me across the breakfast-table--"Um! this letter will interest you, Dick.
It is from Captain Vernon."
My heart leapt with sudden excitement, and my hand trembled as I
stretched it out for the proffered epistle. The mention of Captain
Vernon's name, together with the announcement that the subject-matter
of the letter was of interest to me, prepared me in a great measure for
the intelligence it conveyed; which was to the effect that the writer,
having been appointed to the command of the sloop-of-war Daphne,
now found himself in a position to fulfil a promise of some standing to
his dear and honoured friend Dr Hawkesley (my father) by receiving
his son (myself) on board the sloop, with the rating of midshipman. The
sloop, the letter went on to say, was commissioned for service on the
west coast of Africa; and if I decided to join her no time should be lost
in procuring my outfit, as the Daphne was under orders to sail on the --;
just four days from the date of the receipt of the letter.
"Well, Dick, what do you think of Captain Vernon's proposal?"
inquired my father somewhat sadly, as I concluded my perusal of the
letter and raised my eyes to his.
"Oh, father!" I exclaimed eagerly, "I hope you will consent to let me go.
Perhaps I may never have another such an opportunity; and I am quite

sure I shall never care to be anything but a sailor."
"Ah! yes--the old, old story," murmured my father, shaking his head
dubiously. "Thousands of lads have told their fathers exactly the same
thing, and have lived to bitterly regret their choice of a profession.
Look at my life. I have to run about in all weathers; to take my meals
when and how I can; there is not a single hour in the twenty-four that I
can call my own; it is a rare thing for me to get a night of undisturbed
rest; it is a hard, anxious, harassing life that I lead--you have often said
so yourself, and urged it as one of the reasons why you object to follow
in my footsteps. But I tell you, Dick, that my life--ay, or the life even of
the poorest country practitioner, for that matter--is one of ease and
luxury compared with that of a sailor. But I have said all this to you
over and over again, without convincing you; and I hardly dare hope
that I shall be more successful now; so, if you are really quite resolved
to go to sea, I will offer no further objections. It is true that you will be
going to an unhealthy climate; but God is just as well able to preserve
you there as He is here; and then, again, you have a strong healthy
constitution, which, fortified with such preservative medicines as I can
supply, will, I hope, enable you to withstand the malaria and to return
to us in safety. Now, what do you say--are you still resolved to go?"
"Quite," I replied emphatically. "Now that you have given your consent
the last obstacle is removed, and I can follow with a light heart the bent
of my own inclinations."
"Very well, then," said my father, rising from the table and pushing
back his chair. "That question being settled, we had better call upon Mr
Shears forthwith and give the order for your uniform and outfit. There
is no time to lose; and since go you will, I would very much rather you
went with Vernon than with anyone else."
The above conversation took place, as already stated, in the breakfast-
room of my father's house. My father was at that time--as he continued
to be until the day of his death--the leading physician in Portsmouth;
and his house--a substantial four-storey building--stood near the top of
the High Street. The establishment of Mr Shears, "Army and Navy
Tailor, Clothier, and Outfitter," was situated near the bottom of the

same street. A walk, therefore, of some ten minutes' duration took us to
our destination; and at the end of a further half-hour's anxious
consultation I had been measured for my uniform--one suit of which
was faithfully promised for the next day--had chosen my sea-chest, and
had selected a complete outfit of such clothing as was to be obtained
ready- made. This important business concluded, my father departed
upon his daily round of visits, and I had the remainder of the day at my
own disposal.
My first act on emerging from
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