“I was forced to serve, sir, and I left the ship,” said Don firmly.
“Well, sir, I have but one course to pursue.”
“Surely you will not take them as prisoners, sir?” cried Gordon warmly—“as brave, true fellows as ever stepped.”
“I can believe that,” said the officer; “but discipline must be maintained. Look here, my lads: I will serve you if I can. You made a great mistake in deserting. I detest pressing men; but it is done, and it is not my duty to oppose the proceeding. Now, will you take my advice?”
“What is it, sir?”
“Throw yourself on our captain’s mercy. Your ship has sailed for China; we are going home short-handed. Volunteer to serve the king till the ship is paid off, and perhaps you will never hear of having deserted. What do you say?”
“The same as Jem Wimble does, sir. I can volunteer, and fight, if you like; but I can’t bear to be forced.”
“Well said!” cried the officer, smiling at Don’s bit of grandiloquence; and, an hour later, after an affectionate parting from Ngati, who elected to stay with Gordon, Don and Jem were Jacks once more, marching cheerily with the main body, half a mile behind the guard in charge of the convicts.