We were curtly ordered over the side, and hurriedly the whole of the crew were transferred to the various Dutch ships. The officers were taken on board the admiral's, where de Ruyter himself accepted our surrender, complimenting us on our gallant defence, and permitting the senior officers to retain their swords.
This done, we were sent on board a frigate and placed in a dark, stuffy hole below the waterline. Faintly we could hear the dull booming of the guns, which told us that the fleets were re-engaged, but gradually the sound died away.
Greville Drake had a pocket compass, which showed us that the vessel was heading eastward. Our captors had taken good care that we should not fall into the hands of our friends: we were on our way to Holland and captivity.
How the engagement would end we knew not, but our spirits were greatly depressed with our misfortunes, and one and all, having seen that the courage and fortitude of our enemies had been unduly depreciated by our leaders, were far from sanguine as to the prospects of a victory of our hitherto redoubtable fleet.
Our reveries were cut short by the appearance of a stolid Dutchman, who brought us a liberal supply of food that, compared with our hard fare of the last month, was a bounteous feast. We plied him with eager questions, but his only reply was an expressionless shake of his massive head, and for the time being vague surmises had to suffice.
At length, worn out with bodily fatigue, we threw ourselves down on our rough and hard pallets, and slept soundly till we were awakened by the unmistakable sounds that accompany the action of a ship taking in sail.
We had arrived in the land of our captivity.
[CHAPTER XVI--I Meet an Old Enemy]
Directly our prison ship was moored alongside a quay we were summoned on deck, where an escort of soldiers was in waiting to convey us to a place of confinement on shore.
Some of our officers immediately recognized the port as Rotterdam, which to me appeared a city of lofty buildings beset with canals and waterways.