"I am hit, Peters, and I fear rather badly; but that matters little now that the crew and ship are safe."
Peters caught the captain, for he saw that he could scarce stand, and called two men to his assistance. The captain was laid down on the deck.
"Where are you hit, sir?"
"Halfway between the knee and the hip," Captain Martin replied faintly. "If it hadn't been for the tiller I should have fallen, but with the aid of that I made shift to stand on the other leg. It was just before we fired, at the moment when I put the helm down."
"Why didn't you call me?" Peters said reproachfully.
"It was of no good getting two of us hit, Peters; and as long as I could stand to steer I was better there than you."
Ned came running aft as the news was passed along that the captain was wounded, and threw himself on his knees by his father's side.
"Bear up, Ned; bear up like a man," his father said. "I am hit hard, but I don't know that it is to death. But even if it is, it is ten thousand times better to die in battle with the Spaniards than to be hung like a dog, which would have befallen me and perhaps all of us if they had taken us."
By Peters' directions a mattress was now brought up, and the captain carried down to his cabin. There was no thought on board now of the pursuers astern, or of possible danger lying ahead. The news that Captain Martin was badly wounded damped all the feelings of triumph and enthusiasm which the crew had before been feeling at the success with which they had eluded the Spaniard while heavily punishing her. As soon as the captain was laid on a sofa Peters examined the wound. It was right in front of the leg, some four inches above the knee.
"There is nothing to be done for it," Captain Martin said. "It has smashed the bone, I am sure."