"Well, sir—captain, I mean—the young middy ordered us about just like an old man. He was so brave, and knew his duty.
"What did he do but jump on a gun and shout: 'Are we not Englishmen? Doesn't Britain rule the waves? Are we going to be beaten by a pack of Yankees?' Them's his words, sir, or I wouldn't repeat them, for you can't help being Yankees. Well, sir, as true as I'm a living sinner, he had scarcely said the words when a cannon ball took off his head just as clean as a sword cut. Poor chap, you wouldn't have thought he was good-looking, but he was. Then the lieutenant seeing me, shouts:
"'Leach, throw that thing overboard!' and he pushes the head along the deck as though it was a ball.
"A point abreast of the mainmast we called the slaughter house, 'cause so many were killed just there.
"There, sir, a ball entered a port and killed five men at one lick. It was horrible.
"I got so as I didn't mind slipping about in the blood, but I was glad when I heard the order given to stop firing, and I knew we were licked.
"I'd rather be alive and a prisoner than be dead, sir, so I would; but I've had enough fighting, and Sam Leech will never fight again if he knows what he's about."
Close behind Sam Leech stood Jack Creamer, who had come to the captain's cabin with a message, but had been so interested in the English boy's story that he had forgotten where he was, and only knew that he was listening to a good story.
"And you won't fight again?" he asked, giving Sam a friendly slap on the back.