"Four sail, sir, on the larboard bow," he shouted.
I sprang up (forgetting my wounded leg), and looked eagerly across the sea. By and by I discovered four vessels of a large size bearing down upon us from the west. Whether friend or foe I could not tell until I saw the privateer change her course and at last head directly back towards the shore. Then a great shout of thankfulness broke from the throats of us tired men. We could no longer doubt that these were English ships, and we were alive with excitement when we saw two of them part from the others and go in chase of the privateer. Would they catch her? We forgot our fatigue and wounds, so fascinated were we in watching the pursuit, and the other two vessels were within hailing distance of us almost before we were aware. English colors were now flying at our masthead, and a voice through a speaking trumpet called to know who we were.
"The brig Polly of Southampton," roared the bosun in reply, "run a-truant from Doggy-Trang. And who be you?
"Ads bobs, sir," he added in a breath to me, "there be a white flag at her fore topmast."
"What's that mean?" I asked.
But I had my answer from the other vessel.
"The frigate Gloucester, with Admiral Benbow aboard."
And then Joe Punchard danced a pirouette ('twas a comical sight, he being so bandy), and shouted:
"'Tis my captain, my captain, dash my bowlines and binnacle."
And he caught the arm of one of the deserters, and danced him round the deck till he was dizzy.