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<h3>Chapter Fifty Three.</h3> <h4>I am pleased with my new captain—Obtain leave to go home—Find my father afflicted with a very strange disease, and prove myself a very good doctor, although the disorder always breaks out in a fresh place.</h4> The day after O’Brien had sailed for the East Indies, the dock-yard men came on board to survey the brig, and she was found so defective, as to be ordered into dock. I had received letters from my sister, who was overjoyed at the intelligence of my safe return, and the anticipation of seeing me. The accounts of my father were, however, very unsatisfactory. My sister wrote, that disappointment and anxiety had had such an effect upon him that he was deranged in his intellect. Our new captain came down to join us. He was a very young man, and had never before commanded a ship. His character as lieutenant was well known, and not very satisfactory, being that of a harsh, unpleasant officer; but, as he had never been first lieutenant, it was impossible to say what he might prove when in command of a ship. Still we were a little anxious about it, and severely regretted the loss of O’Brien. He came on board the hulk to which the ship’s company had been turned over, and read his commission. He proved to be all affability, condescension, and good-nature. To me he was particularly polite, stating that he should not interfere with me in carrying on the duty, as I must be so well acquainted with the ship’s company. We thought that those who gave us the information must have been prejudiced or mistaken in his character. During the half-hour that he remained on board, I stated that now that the brig was in dock, I should like very much to have an opportunity of seeing my friends, if he would sanction my asking for leave. To this he cheerfully consented, adding, that he would extend it upon his own responsibility. My letter to the Admiralty was therefore forwarded through him, and was answered in the affirmative. The day afterwards, I set off by the coach, and once more embraced my dear sister. After the first congratulations were over, I inquired about my father; she replied, that he was so wild that nobody could manage him. That he was melancholy and irritable at the same time, and was certainly deranged, fancying himself to be made of various substances, or to be in a certain trade or capacity. That he generally remained in this way four or five days, when he went to bed, and slept for twenty-four hours, or more, and awoke with some new strange imagination in his head. His language was violent, but that, in other respects, he seemed to be more afraid of other people than inclined to be mischievous; and that every day he was getting more strange and ridiculous. He had now just risen from one of his long naps, and was in his study; that before he had fallen asleep he had fancied himself to be a carpenter, and had sawed and chopped up several articles of furniture in the house. I quitted my sister to see my father, whom I found in his easy-chair. I was much shocked at his appearance. He was thin and haggard his eyes were wild, and he remained with his mouth constantly open. A sick nurse, who had been hired by my sister, was standing by him. “Pish, pish, pish, pish!” cried my father; “what can you, a stupid old woman, know about my inside? I tell you the gas is generating fast, and even now I can hardly keep on my chair. I’m lifting—lifting now; and if you don’t tie me down with cords, I shall go up like a balloon.” “Indeed, sir,” replied the woman, “it’s only the wind in your stomach. You’ll break it off directly.” “It’s inflammable gas, you old hecate!—I know it is. Tell me will you get a cord, or will you not? Hah! who’s that—Peter? Why you’ve dropped from the clouds, just in time to see me mount up to them.” “I hope you feel yourself better, sir,” said I. “I fell myself a great deal lighter every minute. Get a cord, Peter, and tie me to the leg of the table.” I tried to persuade him that he was under a mistake; but it was useless. He became excessively violent, and said I wished him in heaven. As I had heard that it was better to humour people afflicted with hypochondriacism, which was evidently the disease under which my father laboured, I tried that method. “It appears to me, sir,” said I, “that if we could remove the gas every ten minutes, it would be a very good plan.” “Yes—but how?” replied he, shaking his head mournfully. “Why, with a syringe, sir,” said I; “which will, if empty, of course draw out the gas, when inserted into your mouth.” “My dear Peter, you have saved my life,” replied my father; “be quick though, or I shall go up, right through the ceiling.” Fortunately, there was an instrument of that description in the house. I applied it to his mouth, drew up the piston, and then ejected the air, and re-applied it. In two minutes he pronounced himself better, and I left the old nurse hard at work, and my father very considerably pacified. I returned to my sister, to whom I recounted what had passed; but it was no source of mirth to us, although had it happened to an indifferent person, I might have been amused. The idea of leaving her, as I must soon do—having only a fortnight’s leave—to be worried by my father’s unfortunate malady, was very distressing. But we entered into a long conversation, in which I recounted the adventures that had taken place since I had left her, and for the time forgot our source of annoyance and regret. For three days my father insisted upon the old woman pumping the gas out of his body; after that he again fell into one of his sound sleeps, which lasted nearly thirty hours. When he arose, I went again to see him. It was eight o’clock in the evening, and I entered with a candle. “Take it away—quick, take it away; put it out carefully.” “Why, what’s the matter, sir?” “Don’t come near me, if you love me; don’t come near me. Put it out, I say—put it out.” I obeyed his orders, and then asked him the reason. “Reason!” said he, now that we were in the dark; “can’t you see?” “No, father; I can see nothing in the dark.” “Well, then, Peter, I’m a magazine, full of gun-powder; the least spark in the world, and I am blown up. Consider the danger. You surely would not be the destruction of your father, Peter;” and the poor old gentleman burst into tears, and wept like a child. I knew that it was in vain to reason with him. “My dear father,” said I, “on board ship, when there is any danger of this kind, we always float the magazine. Now, if you were to drink a good deal of water, the powder would be spoiled, and there would be no danger.” My father was satisfied with my proposal, and drank a tumbler of water every half-hour, which the old nurse was obliged to supply as fast as he called for it, and this satisfied him for three or four days, and I was again left to the company of my dear Ellen, when my father again fell into his stupor, and we wondered what would be his next fancy. I was hastily summoned by the nurse; and found my poor father lying in bed, and breathing in a very strange manner. “What is the matter, my dear sir?” inquired I. “Why, don’t you see what is the matter? How is a poor little infant, just born, to live, unless its mother is near to suckle it, and take care of it?” “Indeed, sir, do you mean to say that you are just born?” “To be sure I do. I’m dying for the breast.” This was almost too absurd; but I gravely observed, “That it was all very true, but unfortunately his mother had died in child-birth, and that the only remedy was to bring him up by hand.” He agreed with me. I desired the nurse to make some gruel, with brandy, and feed him: which she did, and he took the gruel just as if he were a baby. This fit lasted about six days; for he went to sleep, because a baby always slept much; and I was in hopes it would last much longer: but he again went off into his lethargic fit, and after a long sleep awoke with a new fancy. My time had nearly expired, and I had written to my new captain, requesting an extension of leave, but I received an answer stating that it could not be granted, and requesting me to join the brig immediately. I was rather surprised at this, but of course was compelled to obey and, embracing my dear sister once more, set off for Portsmouth. I advised her to humour my father, and this advice she followed; but his fancies were such, occasionally, as would have puzzled the most inventive genius to combat, or to find the remedy which he might acknowledge to be requisite. His health became certainly worse and worse, and his constitution was evidently destroyed by a slow, undermining bodily and mental fever. The situation of my poor sister was very distressing; and I must say that I quitted her with melancholy forebodings. I ought here to observe, that I received all my prize-money amounting to 1560 pounds, a large sum for a lieutenant. I put it into the funds, and gave a power of attorney to Ellen, requesting her to use it as her own. We consulted as to what she should do if my father should die, and agreed that all his debts, which we knew to amount to three or four hundred pounds, should be paid, and that she should manage how she could upon what was left of my father’s property, and the interest of my prize-money. <hr></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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