CHAPTER VIII.
FATHER AND SON.
Tristram, meanwhile, was lying in darkness on board the _Good Intent_, a frigate of twenty-six guns, converted for the nonce into a transport-ship to accommodate three companies of his Majesty's Second Household Regiment, the Coldstreams.

To this regiment the Earl had thought fit to attach him at first, not only on account of his fine inches, but also to keep him out of his father's way, being unwilling that the two should meet until he had visited the Blue Pavilions and endeavoured to bring Captain Barker and Captain Runacles to terms.
It cannot be said that his first acquaintance with military life had lifted Tristram's spirits.

The frigate--to which he had been conveyed without further resistance--struck him as smelling extremely ill below decks; and he was somewhat dashed by the small amount of room at his service.

Moreover, the new suit into which he was promptly clapped, though brilliant in colour, had been made for a smaller man, and obstructed his breathing, which would have been difficult enough in any case.

On the gun-deck, where he found himself, it was impossible to stand upright and equally impossible to lie at length, every foot of room between the tiers of nine-pounders being occupied by kits, knapsacks, chests and mattresses littered about in all conceivable disorder, and the intervals between these bridged by the legs of his brothers-in-arms.