We had been in the prison about two hours, when a lad in a very greasy, ragged jacket, with a pale emaciated face, came up to us, and said, "I perceive by your uniforms that you are both officers, as well as myself."
O'Brien stared at him for a little while, and then answered, "Upon my soul and honour, then, you've the advantage of us, for it's more than I could perceive in you; but I'll take your word for it. Pray what ship may have had the misfortune of losing such a credit to the service?"
"Why, I belonged to the _Snapper_ cutter," replied the young lad; "I was taken in a prize, which the commanding officer had given in my charge to take to Gibraltar: but they won't believe that I'm an officer. I have applied for officer's allowance and rations, and they won't give them to me."
"Well, but they know that we are officers," replied O'Brien; "why do they shove us in here, with the common seamen?"
"I suppose you are only put in here for the present," replied the cutter's midshipman; "but why I cannot tell."
Nor could we, until afterwards, when we found out, as our narrative will show, that the officer who received us from the cuirassiers had once quarrelled with Colonel O'Brien, who first pulled his nose, and afterwards ran him through the body. Being told by the cuirassiers that we were much esteemed by Colonel O'Brien, he resolved to annoy us as much as he could; and when he sent up the document announcing our arrival, he left out the word "Officers," and put us in confinement with the common seamen. "It's very hard upon me not to have my regular allowance as an officer," continued the midshipman. "They only give me a black loaf and three sous a day. If I had had my best uniform on, they never would have disputed my being an officer; but the scoundrels who retook the prize stole all my traps, and I have nothing but this old jacket."
"Why, then," replied O'Brien, "you'll know the value of dress for the future. You cutter and gun-brig midshipmen go about in such a dirty state, that you are hardly acknowledged by us who belong to frigates to be officers, much less gentlemen. You look so dirty, and so slovenly when we pass you in the dockyard, that we give you a wide berth; how then can you suppose strangers to believe that you are either officers or gentlemen? Upon my conscience, I absolve the Frenchmen from all prejudice, for, as to, your being an officer, we, as Englishmen have nothing but your bare word for it."