Ere half-an-hour had elapsed a large hamper was handed on board the boat, and then they were told to pull off from the jetty, and make fast to one of the buoys, which they did.
“Come my lads,” said Lieutenant Cooke, “rip up the hamper, and let us feel the contents if we can’t see them; we shall not require light to appease our hunger.”
William Thornton was delighted with the excitement of the affair. They could hear the various sounds from the interior of the town; loud shouts and cries, and all the noises attending the assembly of a number of people in the street; but all was perfectly quiet within the dockyard and basin. Not a boat passed in or out, and the crowd, a while back standing on the jetty, were all put outside the gates, and only the sentries remained, walking backwards and forwards on their watch.
The hamper contained a dozen of wine, a couple of fowls, and a ham, with abundance of bread.
“Well, by Jove, William, this is not bad; I suppose you expected a mess of frogs, or some other outlandish dish, eh?”
“I prefer the half of a fowl, I confess,” returned our hero, pulling out his knife to commence operations; “though frogs may not be such a bad dish as we may imagine.”
“Oh, confound their frogs!” said the Lieutenant, drawing a cork out of one of the bottles. “By Jupiter! there’s neither cup nor glass of any kind.”
“Here’s a horn, your honour,” said one of the men; “I brought it, thinking it might serve a turn somehow if we got anything better than water.”
“You’re a thoughtful man, Saunders,” said the Lieutenant; “hand it here,” and giving it a rinse first with water and then with wine, he filled himself a bumper and tossed it off. “Good Bordeaux, by Jove! and no mistake. Come, these fellows know what’s good.”
“There’s a row in the town, Mr. Cooke,” said the midshipman; “you can hear them rioting very distinctly.”