It was a pleasant change to leave the barrack prison, even for captivity on board a man-of-war.
Gradually the strictness had relaxed and the prisoners were treated better, and Allen fully believed that the meaning of the return to America was that they were to be liberated in exchange.
The master of arms on the Solebay was an Irishman named Michael Gilligan, and the vessel had only been out two nights when Gilligan sought Allen and offered him his friendship.
"And it's meself as would be a rebel if I were free, but, bad cess to it, I was pressed, and so I made the best of a bad job, and will fight for the flag because it is my duty."
"I admire a brave Englishman——" Allen commenced, but was cut short with the remark:
"I'm not an Englishman, but I'm Irish, and my people are all rebels. Will ye let me be your friend?"
"I shall be only too pleased."
"Then you'll berth with me. Sure it's not such a place as I'd like to be offering you, but it's better than this."
Gilligan held a similar rank to that of a sergeant of a regiment, and was a man of considerable importance on board.
He had a berth between decks, inclosed in canvas, and, as it was large, Allen had plenty of room.