This done, the sergeant poked the candle in my face.
"Uncover your chest," he ordered. The old fellow examined the marks attentively. "As described," he muttered; but I thought he had the look of being mystified about something.
"Jim Ulceby, you are my prisoner," said he.
"I am not Jim Ulceby, but I yield—under protest."
The sergeant shook his head, as if to imply that my protest was no affair of his, and gave order for my removal. I had time only to ask Bess to let Portington and Drury know of my state, which she promised to do without delay. I begged her also to send the news of me to Mistress Goel, but the soldiers had me out of the cottage before I heard her answer. There is no need to dwell on the particulars of the next few days. The first night I was lodged in a stable-loft at the Bull in Epworth, where we remained until evening, when the sergeant and four carabineers took me to Keadby, which place we left by sloop for Hull on the following day.
CHAPTER XVII
We had a tedious passage, for the wind was light, and we missed the advantage of the tide; so it was after six o'clock when we arrived. My guards took me to a large house in Mytongate, adjoining a butcher's shop, the butcher, Acton by name, being the lessee of the prison. When I had been some time in a little den which smelled vilely, my jailer appeared—a lewd fellow, far gone in liquor.
"And you're come to pay us a visit once more," said he, with oaths which I need not repeat. "We have not much accommodation to spare just now, but we must find you a garret somewhere on the old terms, I suppose."
This talk of accommodation was Greek to me. "I don't understand," said I, "not having the honour of your acquaintance."