"A new gaff and bowsprit, a new suit of sails, new bulwarks, and a few patches, and she would be as good as ever. What damage have you suffered?"
"The schooner has half a dozen holes in her bow, sir, and a dozen or so in her sails, nothing that the dockyard could not set right in a fortnight."
He then went below. "Excellent accommodation," he said, after going round, "that is for a fair crew, but she must have been crowded indeed with eighty men. What should you consider to be a fair crew for her, Mr. Glover?"
"Twenty men, sir, if she were a simple trader; I should say from thirty-five to forty would be none too much if she were going to fight her guns."
"Now we will have a look at your craft. You may as well take a seat in my gig. Yes," he went on, as he rowed round her as he had done with the brigantine, "now that the sails are furled she does not seem any the worse for it, except in the bow and those two holes in the bulwarks."
Monsieur Pickard and the ladies were seated on the deck, and rose as the admiral came on board.
"Please introduce me to your friends, Mr. Glover."
Nat did so, and the admiral shook hands with them all.
"I think I may congratulate you on your escape from a very terrible position."
"Yes, indeed," Madame Pickard said. "No words can express the gratitude we feel to Monsieur Glover, his two officers, and the crew. Our position seemed hopeless, the most terrible of deaths and the worst of atrocities stared us in the face."