No sooner had Stephen reached the landing-place than he hired a native boat to take him off to the flag-ship, which, with several of her consorts, was lying some little distance off the shore and in front of the Naval establishment.  Several others were close in by the wharfs.

“They look in a slovenly state indeed,” he said to himself, “infinitely worse than the Chilian ships did when we first got out there.  There are two or three by the flag-ship that look in a fair state of order, but the rest might be a fleet of big colliers, with their yards up and down anyhow, their rigging all slack, and everything dirty and untidy.”

In ten minutes they were alongside of the flag-ship, whose appearance presented a strong contrast to that of the others.

Telling the boatman to bring up his bundle after him, Stephen ascended the ladder.  A petty officer came up to him as he stepped on to the deck.

“What is your business?” he asked him in Portuguese, which Stephen now spoke fluently.

“I wish to speak to the admiral.”

The sailor looked at him from head to foot.  “Have you an appointment with him?”

“I have not, but he will see me, nevertheless, when he knows that I am here.”

On looking round while the man hesitated, Stephen saw the admiral speaking to an officer in captain’s uniform.  The petty officer, after some hesitation, went up to the officer on watch, who at once came over to Stephen.

“You want to speak to the admiral?”

“I do, lieutenant.  I see him yonder, and if you will be good enough to inform him that Lieutenant Embleton is here and ready to report himself for duty, you will find that he will not mind being disturbed.”

The officer looked at him doubtfully.  “You have neither the appearance of an Englishman nor of a lieutenant,” he said.

“That may be, sir, but it does not alter the fact.”

At this moment the captain left the admiral’s side and walked forward.

“What is it, Lieutenant Romoro?” he asked as he passed them.

“This gentleman,” and he hesitated over the word, “says that he is Lieutenant Embleton, and desires to speak to the admiral.”

“Lieutenant Embleton!” the captain repeated in English; “not the admiral’s flag-lieutenant in Chili, surely?  If so, Lord Cochrane will be delighted to see you; he has spoken of you to me several times.  He believed you to be dead, and but yesterday he was saying how he missed your services.”

“I am the man, sir,” Stephen replied.  “I have been eighteen months in crossing the continent, and to get here from Para had to make the voyage to the Cape de Verde and back again.”

“I congratulate you on your escape,” the captain said, shaking his hand warmly.  “My name is Crosbie, I am Lord Cochrane’s flag-captain, I will take you to him at once.”

The admiral had left the deck and retired to his cabin.  Captain Crosbie took Stephen there, and at once knocked at the door and entered.

“Excuse my troubling you now, admiral,” he said, “but my object will, I am sure, excuse my intrusion.  I have a gentleman here that you will, I know, be glad to meet.”

Lord Cochrane looked earnestly at Stephen; he had not seen him since he had sent him down to Valparaiso after the capture of the Esmeralda.  The two years that had elapsed had greatly changed his appearance, and he had grown from a tall lad of eighteen into a powerful young man.  A flash of recognition came into his face, he made a step forward and exclaimed:  “Good heavens, can it be-”

“Stephen Embleton, sir.  I have come on board to report for duty.”

“My dear boy, my dear boy,” Lord Cochrane said, holding out both hands and wringing those of Stephen, “I am glad to see you indeed.  I thank God that I see you alive and well again, which I never dreamt that I should do, for I thought that you had died or had been tortured to death in the dungeons of that accursed Inquisition at Callao.  But where have you sprung from, where have you been all this time, by what miracle are you here?”

“I escaped the night before I was to be handed over to the Inquisition,” Stephen replied, “then finding it impossible to make my way down to Chili I crossed the Andes and have come down the Amazon.  I had an unfortunate adventure which detained me for eight months; at least, I thought it unfortunate at the time, but I cannot think it so now, as I have just arrived in time to join your lordship here.”

“And now, admiral, if you will excuse me I will be off to my duties,” Captain Crosbie put in.  “I could not deny myself the pleasure of bringing in Mr. Embleton, but his story will assuredly be a long one, and, as you know, my hands are pretty full.”

“Well now, lad,” the admiral said when they were alone, “sit down and tell me all about it.  Here I am with my old worry again, but worse.  I thought the Chilians were as bad as could be in matters of business, but these fellows are infinitely worse.  I have had no end of trouble with them, and have been obliged to threaten, three or four times already, to resign.  As it is, I have only been able to get four ships out of a dozen ready, and even these, with the exception of this ship, are in a shameful state, and deficient in every necessary.  What is worse, I cannot even rely upon the crews, which I always could do in the Chilian service.  Well, before you begin your story I must tell you that I did not forget you, but tried every means in my power to effect your release.  When I got a letter from my wife mentioning that you had sailed in that store-ship that had been so long missing, I set about making inquiries, and sent a boat ashore with a white flag to inquire if any such ship had been wrecked on the coast, for there had been a heavy gale at the time that she was making her passage.  I was informed that she and all hands had been lost.

“From some deserters, however, I learned that this was a lie; a few sailors had got ashore and had been killed.  I then sent a frigate down to the place where the wreck had been and sent a letter ashore to the governor.  He replied that an English officer had been captured, and had been sent to Callao and handed over to the authorities there.  When the frigate returned with the news I sent a furious letter ashore to the governor.  He replied that he was not before aware that the officer in question had belonged to the ship that was wrecked, and that the person I spoke of had escaped from prison and had not been recaptured.  A few days after this a fresh governor was appointed at Callao.  I wrote to him, and he gave me substantially the same reply that the other had done.  However, I opened negotiations with a merchant there and got him to make inquiries.  He sent word that he had talked to some of the prison officials, and that they told the same story as the governor had done; they said that you had, in some extraordinary way, overpowered two prison officials and had made your escape.  Of course I did not believe this, and supposed that instructions had been given to all the people connected with the prison to tell the same story.  So I sent again to the merchant, and told him to use whatever means were necessary to get at the truth, as bribery will do anything on that coast.  He found that the new governor on taking the command had found a book with a record as to the disposition of the prisoners on leaving.  Some were marked merely discharged, others as returned to their regiments, many as having died in prison.  There were also a large number of official documents relating to these matters, and among them the governor found an order for you to be handed over to the Inquisition on the day following that on which you were said to have escaped.  As soon as I heard this, it seemed to me that there was no doubt about your fate.  You had been handed over, and this cock-and-bull story was only intended to throw dust in my eyes if I captured Callao.  I therefore sent a demand to the Peruvian authorities for your release and surrender, saying what I had learned; and in reply they declared that I had been misinformed, for that you had escaped, and that the authorities of the Inquisition denied positively that you had ever been handed over to them.

“I wrote a strong letter in reply, saying that no one ever believed the word of an inquisitor, and that if it should ever be my good fortune to capture Callao I would burn their buildings to the ground, and hang every official, priest, and layman belonging to it.  There the matter dropped.  Of course I did not get the chance of carrying my threat into execution, but if I had done so I should have certainly carried it out; and even if I had found afterwards that I had been mistaken about you I should not have regretted it, for they have deserved the fate a hundred times over.  Well, tell me about your escape; the story afterwards must keep.  You know the state the Chilian navy was in when I took the command; well, this is much worse, and the factions here are even more bitter and unscrupulous than they were in Chili, impossible as that may seem to you.”

“The affair was a very easy one, sir, for it was by bribery rather than force that I got away.”  And he then related the manner in which he had been befriended by Don Filippo Conchas and his cousin.

“A noble young fellow!” the admiral exclaimed when he brought his story to a conclusion.  “Of course there are fine fellows among the Spaniards as among other nations, but we have heard only of their worst side, that told by people who hated them bitterly.  Well, I shall like them better in future, and I hope some day that I may run across that young fellow and his wife-no doubt she is his wife long ere this.  Let us call Crosbie in.  He is a fine fellow, and I am very certain he will be heartily glad to have you with him, for at present he has not a soul he can rely on.”

On Captain Crosbie’s arrival the admiral told him that Stephen was ready to set to work at once, in any capacity in which he could make himself useful.

“I shall be glad indeed of his aid,” the captain said, “for there is not an officer or man who knows his work.”

“Knows!” the admiral repeated; “there is not a man who has the faintest idea of it.  I should have liked Stephen, above all things, for our first lieutenant, but our complement is complete.”

“I think you might manage it,” Captain Crosbie said after a few minutes’ reflection.  “No captain has yet been appointed to command the Carolina.  You might appoint Morales to it.  He belongs to a powerful family here, and they would be pleased at his promotion.  So it might be a politic step, as well as serving our purpose by making a vacancy for Embleton.”

“That would be just the thing,” the admiral said.

“I am sure I should be delighted,” Captain Crosbie went on, “for Morales is of very little use; and with Mr. Embleton to aid me I should be able to get the crew into something like shape in half the time that it would take me to do it single-handed.”

“Very well, then; the thing is done.  I have full powers to make any changes and appointments in the fleet, so I will write out the orders at once.  If you will send Lieutenant Morales in here, Captain Crosbie, I will announce his promotion to him and tell him to take up his duties at once, and then Embleton can enter upon his as soon as he has provided himself with a uniform.”

Stephen was about to leave the room with Captain Crosbie when the admiral stopped him.

“I have no doubt that you are short of cash, Stephen,” he said, “and just at the present moment of course you cannot draw upon your bankers in England, for your father will naturally have long since believed you dead, and the account will be transferred to himself; so I must be your banker for the present.  Here are two hundred and fifty dollars.  Tell the fellows who make your uniform-Crosbie will tell you where to go to-that you will pay them something extra to get one suit finished by to-morrow.  We shall sail in a couple of days.”

After thanking the admiral, Stephen retired just as the lieutenant entered the cabin.  On asking the captain as to the address of the best firm of tailors the latter said: 

“I am just going ashore myself to see about some stores from the dockyard, and will go there with you.  As I am known to them they will probably sharpen up more than if you, a stranger, went by yourself.”

As they rowed ashore Stephen learned from Captain Crosbie that the fleet ready for sea consisted, in addition to the flagship, of one fine frigate, the Piranza, the Maria da Gloria, a converted merchantman mounting thirty-three small guns, and the Liberal, about the same size.

“We take with us two old vessels that will be used as fire-ships, and the Carolina and another ship that are not yet equipped will join us later on.  We are first going to attack Bahia, where we shall have all our work cut out.  The Portuguese have three line-of-battle ships, five frigates, five corvettes, a brig, and a schooner.  The worst of the thing is that we cannot depend upon our crews.  I think that our ship will be all right, but the others are all largely manned by Portuguese, who are as likely as not to mutiny directly we get near the enemy, and to take the ships over to them.  Besides that, our equipments are simply miserable-the cartridges are all unfit for service, the fuses of the shells are absolutely untrustworthy, the powder is wretched, the marines know nothing either of working the big guns or of the use of the small ones, and are moreover an insolent, lazy set of rascals, and consider themselves as something infinitely superior to the sailors.  Lord Cochrane will doubtless add to his own great reputation by the deeds he will perform here, but assuredly he will find that he will be harassed well-nigh to death by the different factions, and will have difficulties placed in his way at every turn, will be unable to obtain justice for his crews, and will ere long find his position altogether insufferable.  The emperor is well-intentioned and honest, but is altogether devoid of any real power, and he is as completely in the hands of the clique of schemers round him, as was the President of Chili.  There is not an English officer now in the service of Don Pedro who would not be delighted to leave it if they could obtain an appointment at one-fourth of the pay elsewhere.”

On the 3rd of April the little squadron set sail.  They arrived off Bahia on the 1st of May, and the Portuguese fleet at once sailed out of the harbour to meet them.  The force was altogether too formidable to be engaged by four ill-manned and ill-equipped ships, but Lord Cochrane manoeuvred so that he was able with his flag-ship to cut off the four rearmost ships of their fleet.  He signalled at once to his consorts to join him in attacking these vessels, but to his astonishment and anger the signal was disregarded, and not one of them made the slightest movement to join him.  Hoping that when they saw him actively engaged they would bear down and take part in the fight, he opened fire upon the Portuguese; but the guns and powder were alike so defective, and the crews so incapable of handling them, that he did but little damage to the enemy and was forced to draw off.  He found that the Portuguese on his other three ships had absolutely refused to obey their captains’ orders, and even on the flag-ship the Portuguese employed in sending up ammunition from below, had so wilfully delayed in their work that the guns were often idle for want of ammunition.

He wrote at once a very strong letter to the Brazilian authorities as to the manning and equipment of the ships, and declared that he could do nothing until these matters were remedied, for that it was necessary for one-half of the squadron to be incessantly watching the other.  However, it was not in his nature to wait until his complaints were attended to, for his experience had already taught him that this would be to condemn himself to protracted inactivity.  He consequently sailed to the nearest Brazilian port, and there transferred all the best men and the most serviceable fittings to his flag-ship and the Maria da Gloria.  Leaving the other vessels to remain in port until properly refitted and until their captains could obtain disciplined and sufficient crews, he sailed with the Maria _da Gloria_ for Bahia.  As the commander of the smaller ship, Captain Beaurepaire, was an active and efficient officer, good results were soon obtained by the change.  Several small captures were made of vessels coming in with supplies.  The port was completely blockaded, and the Portuguese squadron, cowed by Cochrane’s great reputation, dared not venture out to engage him.

After remaining there for three weeks the admiral returned to the port to see how the other ships were getting on, and in six days was back again.  The Portuguese fleet had ventured out, but as soon as Lord Cochrane arrived they withdrew again.  A week later information was obtained from a ship captured while attempting to leave the port, that the Portuguese were seriously thinking of evacuating the place altogether, before the fire-ships that were, they had learned, in course of preparation, should arrive.  The admiral despatched the Maria da Gloria to the port to lay in water and victuals for three months.  The other ships there were also to be victualled, and the Piranza was directed to join at once.  In the meantime Lord Cochrane determined to increase, if possible, the alarm of the Portuguese, though he had now only the flag-ship off the port.

The enemies’ fleet lay ten or twelve miles up the bay under shelter of the guns of the fort.

“As to attacking them by daylight,” he said when talking over the matter with Captain Crosbie and Stephen, “it would be altogether too desperate.  Were this ship manned with English sailors I would do it without hesitation, and even with Chilians a good deal might be effected; but although the crew have gained greatly in discipline since we got rid of the Portuguese, I could not count upon them.  The Chilians had gradually gained experience and confidence in themselves, but our crew are altogether new to the work and could not be trusted to fight against such enormous odds.  Still, by going up at night we might get in among their fleet unnoticed, and might even capture one or two vessels.  At any rate, it would heighten their alarm even to know that we had got up through the channel into their midst.”

As soon as it became dark on the evening of the 12th of June the Pedro Primeiro sailed up the river, sounding her way as she went.  Absolute silence was observed on board the ship.  Unfortunately just as they reached the outermost vessels the wind began to drop so light that the ship could hardly stem the tide that was running out; however, she made her way some little distance further.  Even in the darkness so large a ship was noticed; the alarm was given and the drums beat to quarters on board the Portuguese ships of war.  In answer to a hail as to who she was the answer was given, “An English ship”.  This satisfied the Portuguese; but as the wind had now altogether failed and the tide was growing in strength nothing more could be done.  An anchor was dropped, but with enough chain to allow it to drag on the ground, and stern foremost she drifted out from the shipping and regained her old position at the mouth of the river.  But although no material advantage had been gained the moral effect more than answered the admiral’s hopes.  When it became known that his ship had been in the midst of the Portuguese squadron, something like a panic took place on board, and this was increased by the news they received that the fitting out of the fire-ships had almost been completed.

Dependent, as the garrison and shipping were, almost entirely upon provisions brought by sea, they were already very seriously inconvenienced by the blockade.  Accordingly, on the 2nd of July the whole squadron of war-ships, and seventy merchantmen and transports carrying the troops, evacuated Bahia.  All on board the flag-ship were delighted when they saw the great fleet sail; for even Lord Cochrane had felt that even with the whole of his little squadron it would be a desperate undertaking to attempt to attack them when supported by the guns of their forts; now, however, that they were at sea he could at least harass them, for if the ships of war turned upon him he could bear away.  Already an immense service had been performed, for the evacuation of Bahia practically handed over the whole of the province of that name to Brazil.  The admiral had not been joined by the two ships left in port, but the Maria da Gloria had returned, and the Carolina and Nitherohy, which had been left at Rio to complete their outfit, came up three hours after the Portuguese sailed.

He directed these three ships to pick up any Portuguese vessels that lagged behind or made off to the right or left hand, while with the flag-ship he followed close on the rear of the main body.  The Portuguese had intended to make for Maranham, where another squadron was lying, but Cochrane pressed them so closely that they were forced to abandon this plan and continued to sail south.  The men-of-war did not attempt to turn on their pursuer, but kept steadily on, while the merchant ships and transports scattered right and left in order to escape from the reach of his guns.  Those that did so were all picked up by the other Brazilian ships, while Lord Cochrane pursued the main body.  Five days after they had sailed, he sent off the other vessels with their prizes to Pernambuco, the nearest port, with a despatch to the minister of marine, informing him that half the enemy’s army, their colours, cannon, ammunition, stores, and baggage had already been taken.  He stated that he should continue the pursuit, directing his attention at present to the transports, in order that he might if possible capture the whole of the troops and so lessen the risk of any future operations by the Portuguese against Brazil.  After effecting this he should, he said, direct his operations against their war-ships.

For another week he followed the flying fleet.  Each night he swept down among them, capturing many vessels and causing the utmost confusion and alarm among the rest.  He chased them past the equator and more than half-way to Cape Verde, and then left them to make their way back to Portugal, and report that a single vessel had driven thirteen ships of war home, accompanied by only thirteen of the seventy vessels that had started under their protection.  The pursuit would not have terminated even then, but would have been pressed until the rest of the convoy fell into his hands, but several of the transports had made their escape during the night attacks, and Lord Cochrane was anxious to prevent them from carrying their troops safely into Maranham.  Upon abandoning the pursuit, therefore, he sailed for that port, and entered the river with Portuguese colours flying.

The authorities at once sent off an officer to congratulate their supposed friend on his safe arrival, and to express their satisfaction at this reinforcement to their strength.  On arriving on board, the officer found that he had fallen into a trap.  Lord Cochrane announced to him that the flag-ship would be followed by a numerous fleet with a military force, and that resistance would therefore bring about the destruction of the place and the capture of the fleet and garrison, and he then sent him on shore with letters to the governor to the same effect.

“You will already have learned,” he said, “of the flight of the naval and military forces from Bahia.  I have now to inform you of the capture of two-thirds of the transports and troops with all their stores and ammunition.  I am anxious not to let loose the imperial troops upon Maranham, exasperated as they are at the injuries and cruelties exercised towards them and their countrymen, as well as by the plunder of the merchants and churches of Bahia.”

The letter had a prompt effect, and on the following day a deputation came off and surrendered the city and forts.  The Portuguese troops were at once embarked on their ships and allowed to sail to Europe, as, had they learned the truth, they might again have obtained possession of the forts and town, which the admiral had no means of preventing them from doing.  The delight of the people at being free from the dominion of the Portuguese was unbounded, and they would have massacred the civilians remaining had not Lord Cochrane interfered and allowed all who were willing, to take the oath of allegiance to Brazil.  Many of the leading Portuguese merchants and traders did so, but the admiral was obliged to remain two months in the port to protect them from the effect of the exasperation of the native population.  But although compelled to remain inactive for a time, the admiral continued his work by sending off Captain Grenfell with a Portuguese brig, which he had seized in the river, to Para, the last stronghold remaining to the Portuguese, to follow there the example that he had set him, by reporting the capture of Bahia and Maranham, and announcing the coming of a great fleet and demanding immediate surrender.

The expedient was again completely successful.  Astounded and cowed at the disasters that had befallen their countrymen, Para and the ships of war in the harbour at once surrendered, and the troops were embarked without delay for Portugal.  Thus, in the course of six months, Lord Cochrane had with practically but one fighting ship put an end to the Portuguese domination in Brazil, had captured three strong fortresses, driven three large bodies of troops across the Atlantic, taken an immense number of prizes, a vast quantity of naval and military stores, and had annexed to Brazil a territory more than half as large as Europe, a record unapproached in the world’s history.  Upon his return to the capital Lord Cochrane was received with the greatest enthusiasm.  The emperor came on board and personally tendered him his thanks.  The title of Marquis of Maranham was bestowed upon him, and he was made a privy-councillor of Brazil.

These, however, were but empty honours.  His sailors remained unpaid; by a system of wholesale fraud they received but an insignificant fraction of the prize-money due to them; for the Portuguese faction were still predominant in the Brazilian ministry, and Lord Cochrane was so openly insulted that he felt his position untenable.  He remained, however, for a year longer in the service, in order to obtain for his sailors some portion of the arrears of pay and of the insignificant amount of prize-money that was admittedly their due.  His resignation could not be much longer delayed, but finally it was brought about by accident.  He was cruising in the Piranza, to which he had shifted his flag, when he was carried far out to sea by strong easterly winds.  These increased to a heavy gale, when it was discovered that many of the spars were so unserviceable that sail could not be set on them.

The rigging was absolutely rotten, as were the provisions on board.  He could do nothing but run before the gale as long as it lasted, and by that time he had sailed far across the Atlantic.  Return was impossible for him, seeing the condition of the ship, and the fact that there was not more than a week’s supply of wholesome food remaining.  He therefore decided that the only chance of safety was to continue his voyage to England.  This he did, and reached Portsmouth in safety, and his first step was to advance L2000 to refit the ship.  But his enemies in Brazil made out that his voyage to England was an absolute desertion, and sent instructions to the officers and crew no longer to obey his orders.  He therefore sent off the letter of resignation he had so long intended.  Thus, at the close of his two commands, in which he had brought about the expulsion of the Spaniards from the western coast of South America, and that of the Portuguese from the eastern, Lord Cochrane, so far from having reaped any personal benefit from his splendid services and daring exploits, was absolutely a poorer man by L20,000 than when he left the shores of England.

Stephen had, by Lord Cochrane’s advice, resigned his commission as soon as the admiral saw that there was no hope of obtaining fair treatment from the Portuguese faction, who determined that the sailors should derive no benefit from the work they had done.

“Chili was bad,” he said; “but in Chili there was some honest popular feeling, and this acted as a check and prevented the council carrying their rascally course too far.  In Brazil there is practically no public opinion.  The people are on a level with those in Peru, and naturally indolent; they have grown so accustomed to oppression that they dare not protest against any iniquity.  I foresee that it will not be long before I too shall resign; indeed, I would gladly do so now, were it not that I am forced to stay here to do what I can to obtain justice for the fleet.  You are but one-and-twenty and your life is before you; you have had enough adventures to last an ordinary man for his lifetime, and you have acquired some six or seven thousand pounds by your rescue of that treasure, and your Chilian prize-money as lieutenant of the flag-ship.  Here you ought to get more than that, but I can see already that the fleet will be cheated out of a great share of their prize-money.  Still, however meagre the amount the scoundrels may consider themselves bound to dole out, you ought to get a thousand out of them as your share of the capture of a hundred ships, to say nothing of the men-of-war and the stores.  With six or seven thousand pounds you can buy a ship, command her yourself and go in for trade; you can settle down on a little estate in the country, or buy yourself a share in some business.  Were there any chance of further fighting here, I would keep you with me gladly, but as it is it would be a pure waste of time for you to remain.”

Stephen took the advice, resigned, and went home.  He had, of course, written to his father as soon as he arrived in Brazil, and when the vessel touched at Plymouth he posted a letter to prepare him for his arrival at home.  He found him somewhat altered, but the lieutenant said:  “I am in excellent health now, Stephen.  Your disappearance, and Cochrane’s letter telling me that he feared that he could give me no hope whatever, broke me down a good deal, and I felt myself that I was going downhill rapidly.  However, I have been picking up fast ever since I got your letter giving me an account of your journey across South America.  Now that I have you home again I shall soon be completely myself.  I have invested all that money of yours in good securities, and as soon as I got your letter I sent the order, as you requested me, to Spain, for Don Filippo Conchas.  I received a letter from him two months later acknowledging its receipt, and saying how pleased he and his wife were to hear of your safe arrival on the sea-coast, for they had long before given you up.  Don Filippo said that he was a captain now, and that his regiment, the 15th Cavalry, was stationed at Seville, and that he hoped, when I had news again of you, I would write to him there.”

“I shall go out myself, father, in the course of a month or two, to pay him a visit.  He and his wife saved my life at the risk of disgrace and punishment to themselves, and I promised them that if I should get safely home I would go over to see them, and I will certainly do so.”

“Quite right, Stephen.  The sin of ingratitude is one of the meanest and basest that a man can commit, and I will spare you willingly on such an errand.”

Captain Conchas and his wife were indeed delighted to see Stephen, and he spent a very pleasant fortnight with them.  On the occasion of his first visit to London he made inquiries of Mr. Hewson, and found that Wilcox, the sailor who had been with him when they so nearly fell into the hands of the natives, was still in his service; and when, some time afterwards, the ship in which he was in returned to port, he had Wilcox down to Ramsgate, and installed him in the place of gardener and general factotum there.  When Lord Cochrane returned to England Stephen went at once down to Portsmouth.

“I should have done better if I had come back with you, Embleton.  I should have spared myself nearly two years of trial, humiliation, and disgust, and should have been a good many thousand pounds in pocket.  What are you doing with yourself?”

“I am doing nothing at present, sir.  These two long absences of mine, and the belief that I was dead, knocked my father down completely.  He recovered a bit, but gradually went back again, and I fear that he has not long to live.  However, my presence with him is a great satisfaction to him, and for the present I cannot think of leaving him.”

“Quite right, lad.  A man’s first duty is to his father, especially when his father has been a kind one, and you are quite right in sticking to him until the end.”

For this reason Lord Cochrane abstained from urging Stephen to accompany him, when, shortly afterwards, he was offered the command of the naval forces of Greece, which was at the time engaged in its struggle for independence.  Stephen was the more pleased at his decision to stay at home with his father, that intrigues and want of means caused some eighteen months to pass before Lord Cochrane proceeded to take up his command.  Even his experience of Chili, Peru, and Brazil had hardly prepared the admiral for the corruption, the incapacity, the faction, and the rascality of the Greeks.  His efforts were always crippled; and although he accomplished all that a man could do in their service, and obtained many minor successes, he never had an opportunity of repeating the exploits that had made him famous in the service of his own country and in those of Chili and Brazil.  When the battle of Navarino had practically put an end to the war he returned to England for a short time, heartily wearied of his struggle against men whom he pronounced arrogant, ignorant, despotic, and cruel, and “who were collectively the greatest cowards that I have ever met”.

He returned after a short stay in England, but found that, now that his services were no longer indispensable, he was treated with such insolence that he resigned his commission and returned home, suffering from a sort of mental fever, the result of the trials, troubles, and disappointments that he had met with during his four years in the service of Greece.  In 1831 he succeeded, on the death of his father, to the earldom of Dundonald, and applied himself to the work of obtaining restitution of the ranks and honours of which he had been so unjustly deprived.  After the Reform Bill had passed in 1832, and the clique that had persecuted him so long had lost office, a free pardon was granted him, he was restored to his position in the royal navy, and gazetted rear-admiral.  But naturally the Earl of Dundonald was still dissatisfied.  The term “free pardon” for an offence that he had never committed galled him, and while he now devoted himself to various inventions connected with steam-engines and war-ships, he never ceased to strive for a full recognition of the injustice to which he had been subjected.  His father had been devoted to scientific inventions, and as the earl inherited that talent many of his inventions were of the highest scientific value.

In 1848 Lord Dundonald was appointed admiral of the North American and West Indian fleet.  Later still in life other recognitions of his character and services were bestowed upon him.  He had been restored to his honours as Knight of the Bath by the Queen in 1854.  He was appointed Rear-admiral of the Fleet, and a month later was named by Prince Albert as honorary Brother of the Trinity House.  He died on the 31st of October, 1860, at the age of eighty-five.

Stephen Embleton went no more to sea.  Contrary to his fears, his father lived for many years, but was a confirmed invalid, and suffered so severely from his old wound that he never went beyond the limit of his garden.  Four years after his return from Brazil Stephen married, and before his father’s death the cottage had to be enlarged to make room for the increasing number of its occupants; and Stephen Embleton continued to reside there until, a few years ago, he died at a great age.