"Oh, you solemn old donkeys!" he exclaimed. "You know you've been friends at heart all along."
They looked sheepish, like boys detected in something unboyish.
"Ah, sir," said Babbage, "brother Sol used to say 'tis not actions wot matter, 'tis feelings."
"Brother Sol was wrong, then. I shouldn't be feeling so dizzy but for the action of some Frenchman who got a cut at me. What's happened, Babbage?"
"The ship's ourn, sir, and we're making for Portsmouth."
"Hurray! Tell me about it!"
"Well, sir, arter you was down we got our monkeys up. 'Twas all over in half a minute. Turley and Mudge and a dozen more went at 'em 'longside o' me; we drove 'em back; Mudge tumbled the captain over, and the rest hauled down their colors and cried for quarter. Then me and some more jumped down the gangway and cleared the lower deck, where some mounseers was scrambling round the arm-chest. Bless you! it didn't last long. They did their best, to be sure, but we did better; and the end of it was they all flung down their pikes and cutlasses and gave in. Then we brought you down here into the captain's cabin; I put the ship about, and cast off the Fury with ten men in her; she's following in our wake now, sir."
"Capital! And what of the prisoners?"
"Tied up, sir. There's a hundred and forty, sir, all told, and being such a terrible lot more than us I couldn't leave 'em loose. They're sitting on the lower deck, side by side, twenty of them slung on to one rope, and for every twenty there's a man with a musket. They don't understand plain English, sir, but they understand a loaded musket, and every man of 'em knows that if he tries any tricks 'tis good-by."
"Well, I'm only sorry I was bowled over. You've done splendidly. How long have I been here?"