That was the
nearest approach to brightness those lovers of their father allowed
themselves, within five months of his tragic death; though if the old
Admiral could have looked down from the main-top, probably he would have
shouted, "No flags at half-mast for me, my pets!"
Two young men with melancholy glances followed these fair bridesmaids,
being tantalized by these nuptial rites, because they knew no better.
One of them hoped that his time would come, when he had pushed his great
discovery; and if the art of photography had been known, his face would
have been his fortune. For he bore at the very top of it the seal and
stamp of his patent--the manifest impact of a bullet, diffracted by the
power of Pong. The roots of his hair--the terminus of blushes, according
to all good novelists--had served an even more useful purpose, by
enabling him to blush again. Strengthened by Pong, they had defied the
lead, and deflected it into a shallow channel, already beginning to
be overgrown by the aid of that same potent drug. Erle Twemlow looked
little the worse for his wound; to a lady perhaps, to a man of science
certainly, more interesting than he had been before. As he gazed at the
bride all bespangled with gold, he felt that he had in his trunk the
means of bespangling his bride with diamonds. But the worst of it was
that he must wait, and fight, and perhaps get killed, before he could
settle in life and make his fortune.
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