The sentence with which I finished the last chapter appears to me essential, because what I am now about to describe may seem to many readers more like the dreams of fancy than the details of sober fact.

 

When my mother and I, with Nicholas and Bella, arrived at Portsmouth, we were met by my naval friend, a young lieutenant, who seemed to me the beau-idéal of an embryo naval hero. He was about the middle height, broad, lithe, athletic, handsome, with a countenance beaming with good-will to, and belief in, everybody, including himself. He was self-possessed; impressively attentive to ladies, both young and old, and suave to gentlemen; healthy as a wild stag, and happy as a young cricket, with a budding moustache and a “fluff” on either cheek. Though gentle as a lamb in peace, he was said to be a very demon in war, and bore the not inappropriate name of Firebrand.

 

“Allow me to introduce my friend, Lieutenant Naranovitsch, Mr Firebrand, my mother and sister; not too late, I hope,” said I, shaking hands.

 

“Not at all. In capital time,” replied the young fellow, gaily, as he bowed to each. “Allow me, Mrs Childers—take my arm. The boat is not far off.”

 

“Boat!” exclaimed my mother, “must we then go to sea?”

 

“Not exactly,” replied Firebrand, with a light laugh, “unless you dignify Portchester Creek by that name. The Nettle target-ship lies there, and we must go on board of her, as it is around and in connection with her that the various experiments are to be tried, by means of gunboats, launches, steam-pinnaces, and various other kinds of small craft.”

 

“How very fortunate that you have such a charming day,” said my mother, whose interest was at once aroused by the youth’s cheery manner. “Do you expect many people to witness the experiments, Mr Firebrand?”

 

“About five hundred invitations have been issued,” answered the lieutenant, “and I daresay most of those invited will come. It is an occasion of some importance, being the termination of the senior course of instruction in our Naval Torpedo School here. I am happy to think,” he added, with an arch smile, “that an officer of the Russian army will have such a good opportunity of witnessing what England is preparing for her enemies.”

 

“It will afford me the greatest pleasure to witness your experiments,” replied Nicholas, returning the smile with interest, “all the more that England and Russia are now the best of friends, and shall, I hope, never again be enemies.”

 

In a few minutes we were conveyed on board the Nettle, on whose deck was a most animated assemblage. Not only were there present hundreds of gaily-dressed visitors, and officers, both naval and military, in bright and varied uniforms, but also a number of Chinese students, whose gaudy and peculiar garments added novelty as well as brilliancy to the scene.

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