"Welcome in safety, messmate o' mine," said the bluff admiral, who was clad in his helmet and suit of steel; "we heard you had parted your cable in yonder devilish field."
"Only unhorsed, Sir Andrew."
"Any planks stove in, or timbers started?"
"None, thank Heaven! though I received a blow that must have killed me, had I not——"
"Like most Scotsmen in these troublous times, been well used to cuts and blows," interrupted Barton. "So the battle was fairly fought?"
"Yea, fairly as the Ball of Scone, as the saw hath it—fairly fought and most unhappily lost. Alas! yonder field of battle is the very garden of Death!"
"And what of the king?" asked several voices.
"The king—is he not on board the Yellow Frigate?"
"No," said the admiral; "I would to God he were, for then he would be in safe anchoring ground. Which way did he ride?"
"I know not, for I fell by his side in the middle of the battle——"