"You'd hardly recognize the gun-deck now," he said in conclusion. "The men are not lounging around jawing or spinning yarns; but appear on the alert as if expecting the call to quarters at any instant, and it needs only sand on the deck, so Master Hackett says, to give the proper showing.
"Sand on the deck?" I repeated.
"Ay, so that the planks shall not be slippery when covered with the blood of our men. I am told that it is always strewn around before a ship goes into action."
I could not repress a shudder. It was bad enough to hear Benson talk of what must surely come to us finally, without listening to an account of the preparations made for the actual approach of death.
At that time, when it seemed as if we were cornered like rats, I thought of my home which I had left so many months, and with the thought came a great wonderment that boys should ever be eager to leave their mother's side in order to take part in the wickedness of the world—for surely a war is wicked, whatever the cause.
While I sat there in the darkness, staring at the bars of Benson's prison, I heard again my mother's voice, and for the hundredth time since leaving home realized that she was my best friend; that I had voluntarily left her in order to come at last face to face with death or a lingering imprisonment.
Surely, this world never held a lad so foolish as I had proved myself to be!