Half-drowned and bruised as I was, this blow sent me back to the bottom of the boat like one already dead. What had I to live for now?
When I came to myself next a change had come over the scene. The sea had quieted down, the afternoon sun was striking across the waves, and ahead of us, on the northern horizon, was a low, grey line of coast.
But it was not at that that all eyes were turned, but at a noble-looking ship hove-to in the offing, not a mile away, and flying a signal from her peak.
Our men had sighted her an hour ago, and rigged up an oar with a rag at the end, which the ship had observed. And what all eyes were now intent on was her pinnace, as she covered the distance between us.
It was always my luck to be rescued when I had least heart for life, and I confess if I had seen the boat capsize that moment I should have been well enough pleased.
But she had no notion of capsizing. Long before she came up we could see that she was manned by smart English blue-jackets, and belonged to a line-of-battle ship in the king’s navy—one of the very ships, no doubt, that Captain Keogh had been so anxious to avoid in Galway Bay.
Half-an-hour later we were on the shining deck of his majesty’s ship Diana, thirty-eight guns, standing out, with all sails set, for the wide Atlantic. My comrades were too thankful to find themselves alive, with food to eat and dry clothes to put on, to concern themselves as to the ship’s destination. But I, who yearned to know and share the fate of those I loved, groaned as I saw the coast-line drop astern, and realised that, after all, I was as far from home as ever.
As soon as we were revived and fed—and I am bound to confess we were humanely treated in that respect—a ship’s officer came forward and questioned us.
I, as brother to the lieutenant, was put forward to answer; and I told him all, not omitting our contraband cargo, or the manner of my own joining the Kestrel.
“Well, lads,” said the officer, “you’ve paid for your bit of fun. If the Diana had had her full complement of men, you might have been whistling in the breakers still. Now you belong to his Majesty, and your names are entered on the books of his ship. It’s more than you deserve, but that can’t be helped. Report yourselves to the boatswain.”