“He looks a likely lad,” said one voice.
“He’s safer with us than ashore,” said another. “I warrant he was put there to spy on us.”
“Come, lad,” said the first speaker, shaking me not altogether roughly; “we have you safe this time.”
“’Deed, sir,” said I, “as long as you give me some food you may do what you like with me.”
And with this I rolled over again and all grew dim. When I opened my eyes next it was dark, and by the motion under me I guessed I was on the ship. A lantern swung dimly overhead, and a loud snoring below me showed me I was not alone in my bunk. What was of more interest just then, a piece of a loaf and some salt meat stood within reach of where I lay, and had evidently been put there for my use. You may guess if I let them stand long.
This refreshment, with the sleep I had had, and a few drops of rum in the tail of a bottle that stuck from my messmate’s pocket, made a new man of me. And I sank back to my rest with a sense of comfort I have rarely known the like of since.
In the morning a rough hand roused me.
“Come, you have had enough coddling, my hearty. The captain wants you. And, if you’ll take my advice, you’ll say your prayers before you go on deck, as he’ll likely drop you overboard.”
This failed to frighten me, as it was meant to do; and I gathered myself together and climbed the hatchway, feebly enough, I confess, but with good cheer, and stood on the deck of the Arrow.
The coast of Donegal was clear over our stern, and a smart breeze from the east filled our sails and sent us spanking through the water.