The Log of a Privateersman - Harry Collingwood

“There, there! no thanks, no thanks; I know exactly what you are struggling to say, and I will take it as said. You need not trouble to thank me in words. Let your deeds express your gratitude; and if you behave as well under the pennant as you have hitherto done under the merchant flag, I shall be more than satisfied. And I intend to give you every opportunity of distinguishing yourself and doing me credit. For it happens that the Triton’s boats captured a becalmed pirate schooner last week, and brought her in. The lieutenant who led the attack lost his life, poor fellow, in boarding, so that he has not to be considered; and I propose, therefore, to purchase the craft into the service and give you the command of her. She sails like a witch, I am told, and is a wonderfully powerful vessel, just the sort of craft to give a smart, young fellow like yourself every chance to race up the ratlines of promotion. So now, all that you have to do is to arrange somehow to be relieved of your present command as soon as possible, and then to step into your new berth.”

This I had no difficulty whatever in doing, thanks to the lucky chance of Captain Winter being in the same port. I slept at the Pen that night, my kind friend, the Admiral, insisting upon my so doing; and the next evening I found myself in a position to inform him that all arrangements had been made to relieve me of the command of the Sword Fish, and to take the galleon home to England. And within forty-eight hours of the receipt of my commission I had entered upon my new career, and had ceased to be a privateersman.

The End.