“How many prisoners?”
“Four, sir.”
Then we were alongside, the boat was run up, and, after our wounded man had been lifted out, I stepped on board, eager to know the result of the action on the part of the other boats, and to learn this I went below, and found Barkins alone.
“Well,” I cried, “how many prisoners?”
“Round dozen,” he cried.
“Any one hurt?”
“Round dozen.”
“I know, twelve prisoners,” I said impatiently. “I asked you how many were hurt.”
“And I told you, stupid,” he replied, “a round dozen.”
“What! a man wounded for every prisoner?”