I noticed that the man's face was pitted deeply.
"That's so," Sutton replied; "there's the cat, for instance. I beg your pardon for not thinking of it; I shouldn't slight an acquaintance of yours for anything."
There was some more coarse badinage, not worth recording, and we were under the shadow of the ship. Many faces lined her bulwarks, and a rope being thrown to us, soon we were fending the boat off from the side. Then a rope-ladder rattled down, and not without some difficulty those in the bow began to clamber up.
Soon it was my turn. It was not until I reached the deck that I had any idea of the effect of shot and splinter, but the dark stains, hastily mopped up, had a reddish tinge that was suggestive, and the loose running-gear that had fallen from aloft showed that Captain Temple must have used some of the missiles condemned by the English—and here, let me state, afterwards used by them, to which I can make oath.
As we were being hastened below many were the looks of hatred thrown at us, and cutting taunts also in plenty. To all of these Sutton kept a running fire of replying, in which he was ably seconded by one or two others.
"Why, my old boiled lobster," he replied to a marine who thrust his great face over the hatch-combing as we descended, "if I hadn't ketched a crab, I believe we'd 'a' took you with the long-boat!"
A young officer was directing our guards where to stow us, and under his orders we were huddled together in the fore-hold, near the cable tier, where the only light and air that reached us came down through the chain-hatch.
I looked about and saw that there were in our party six sailormen and four landsmen who had been enrolled in our marine force. We presented a sorry appearance sitting there in the dim light on a lot of spare cable, the most uncomfortable thing to rest on that one can imagine.
What had become of the rest of us in the long-boat I did not know then, but as I found out afterwards, I might as well tell of it here. There had been nineteen in all when we started; seven reached the shore safely, two were drowned—one of them, alas! the brave cockswain who had been wounded, as I have stated. Now as there is no report of this action to be found in the naval chronicles of Great Britain—at least I do not know of any—it may be of interest to put down what we heard of it, although it cannot be vouched for. From the talk we heard, I make out that there were nine killed on board the Acastra (for this was the name of the vessel), and upwards of twenty wounded. There were two killed on board the Young Eagle, and two wounded. In this, I think, I am correct.
The groaning of the poor lad with the bloody head caused me to wonder whether this was going to be our prison cell, or whether we were placed there temporarily before moving to a better or a worse one. Sutton took off his jacket, and we made Mackie, the man I had saved from drowning, the wounded one, as comfortable as we possibly could; but it was not long before he was wandering in his mind, and this depressed us all, for there is nothing so apt to cut one's spirits as the watching of suffering beyond the power of alievement.