They wanted to use Nolan's state-room for something, and they
hated to do it without asking him to the ball; so the captain said
they might ask him, if they would be responsible that he did not talk
with the wrong people, "who would give him intelligence." So the dance
went on, the finest party that had ever been known, I dare say; for I
never heard of a man-of-war ball that was not. For ladies they had the
family of the American consul, one or two travellers who had
adventured so far, and a nice bevy of English girls and matrons,
perhaps Lady Hamilton herself.
Well, different officers relieved each other in standing and talking
with Nolan in a friendly way, so as to be sure that nobody else spoke
to him. The dancing went on with spirit, and after a while even the
fellows who took this honorary guard of Nolan ceased to fear any
_contretemps_. Only when some English lady--Lady Hamilton, as I said,
perhaps--called for a set of "American dances," an odd thing happened.
Everybody then danced contra-dances. The black band, nothing loath,
conferred as to what "American dances" were, and started off with
"Virginia Reel," which they followed with "Money Musk," which, in its
turn in those days, should have been followed by "The Old Thirteen."
But just as Dick, the leader, tapped for his fiddles to begin, and
bent forward, about to say, in true negro state, "'The Old Thirteen,'
gentlemen and ladies!" as he had said "'Virginny Reel,' if you
please!" and "'Money-Musk,' if you please!" the captain's boy tapped
him on the shoulder, whispered to him, and he did not announce the
name of the dance; he merely bowed, began on the air, and they all
fell to--the officers teaching the English girls the figure, but not
telling them why it had no name.
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