"That will do, Jacques.
Take him forward and sling a hammock for him. Hang up his clothes in
the cook's galley, they will be dry by the time he wakes."
Ralph asked no questions, as he was taken forward, as to the character
of La Belle Marie. Six guns were ranged along on each side of her
decks, and this, and the appearance of the captain's cabin, was
sufficient to inform him that he had fallen into the hands of a French
privateer. The craft had, indeed, left Dunkirk soon after nightfall,
and was making her way down channel with every sail set when she had
run down the unfortunate fishing boat.
Jacques, as he hung up the hammock, explained to the sailors who
crowded round the character of the passenger who had so unexpectedly
come on board.
"Poor lad," one of the sailors said good-naturedly, "he will be some
time before he sees his mother again. He hasn't got a very bright
lookout before him--a long voyage, and then a prison. I will go and
see if the cook has got some water hot. A glass of spirits will do him
good."
A few minutes later Ralph was wrapped up in a blanket and the warm
glow produced by that and the glass of strong grog soon sufficed to
send him soundly to sleep, in spite of the painful uncertainty of his
position and of his sorrowful thought of his mother, who would in the
morning be inquiring for him in vain.
Pages:
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71