Court-martialed! Cashiered! None but a service man can grasp the awful significance of those words to the commissioned ranks of the army and navy.
Anstruther well knew what he was doing.

Somehow, he found nothing hard in the performance of these penances now.

Of course, the ugly truth must be revealed the moment Lord Ventnor heard his name.

It was not fair to the good fellows crowding around him, and offering every attention that the frank hospitality of the British sailor could suggest, to permit them to adopt the tone of friendly equality which rigid discipline, if nothing else, would not allow them to maintain.
The first lieutenant, by reason of his rank, was compelled to say something-- "That is a devilish bad job, Mr.Anstruther," he blurted out.
"Well, you know, I had to tell you." He smiled unaffectedly at the wondering circle.

He, too, was an officer, and appreciated their sentiments.