“Nay, sir, not one. We might have killed some of them if they had kept on showing fight; and I don’t say, mind you, as some of them hadn’t got some very awkward cuts, for when a British tar’s fighting in a good cause, and been knocked about till his monkey’s well up, his habit is to hit hard; but there, as soon as we had driven that lot below they chucked their knives and axes and pikes away and began to howl for mercy. What I meant was so awful was that place down below—that there hold with the slaver’s crew trampling about and trying to hide themselves amongst the chained-up cargo. Awful aren’t the word for it, sir! The lads couldn’t stand it: let alone the sick and dying, there were some there that must have been dead for days, and that in a close hold in a sea like this! But I believe it was much hotter. Even the slaver’s crew themselves begged to be let out—and there, I won’t say any more about it. It was quite time even then that our old country began to put a stop to the slave trade, and I am sorry to say they aren’t done it yet. That’s what made us chaps to-night so free-and-easy with that there boat’s crew. You see, you can’t help liking fellows who are trying to put a stop to things like that.”
“No, Joe, of course not. But that’s not what they are down here for.”
“Who says so, sir?”
“Why, that midshipman, Mr Lindon, told me so.”
“Well, he ought to know, sir. What did he say they were here for, then?”
“He didn’t say, only that it was private and he couldn’t speak.”
“Well, I don’t know, then, only a man-of-war wouldn’t be down here for nothing; that’s pretty sure. Maybe we shall run into company with them again some day, and then I dare say we shall know. They gave us lads a fright, but I aren’t sorry we met them, sir, for it was a bit of a change. Yes, Mr Rodd, sir, they are down here on some business pertickler secret and sealed orders; but you wait a bit, sir, and I dare say one of these days you’ll find out.”