Chapter Ten.

Almost exhausted, pale as death, the blood flowing from his wound opened by the exertions he had made, Wenlock Christison dropped down on the deck of the stranger, not knowing whether he was to find himself on board an English or Dutch ship. The condition of the ship showed that she had been hotly engaged, for numbers of dead men lay about her blood-stained decks. From their appearance, as the light of the lanterns occasionally glanced on them, Wenlock at once saw that they were Dutch. Dutch was among the languages with which he was acquainted, having met many Hollanders in America.

“Who are you?” said an officer, who saw him come over the side.

“An Englishman, and one of the few survivors of the ill-fated ship which blew up just now,” he answered. “Well-nigh a thousand men who walked her decks in health and strength this morning are now in eternity.”

“You are indeed fortunate in escaping then,” said the Dutch officer, “and though we must consider you a prisoner, you will be treated with due courtesy on board this ship. I see that you are wounded, and badly it seems to me, so that you must be forthwith put under the surgeon’s care.”

Wenlock thanked him, and supported by a couple of men was carried below. After this he knew nothing of what happened to him, for scarcely had he been placed on a bed than he fainted. When he came to consciousness he found the surgeon ready to administer some medicine, soon after which he fell asleep, nor did he awake again till daylight. He inquired eagerly what had occurred.

“You must not talk much,” said the surgeon; “but this I will tell you, that we have had a very fierce engagement, and lost three of our stoutest ships; while, if the truth is known, you English have not been less sufferers. Depend on it, altogether between us, four or five thousand people have been killed: a sensible employment for human beings. Heu! while we,—a free Protestant people,—were fighting for liberty, you English were beguiled by your own traitorous sovereign, bribed by the King of France, to attack us.”

The surgeon, Nicholas Van Erk, notwithstanding his remarks, treated Wenlock with the greatest kindness. They however gave him ample material for thought. In a short time the Dutch fleet arrived off the coast of Holland, and the injured ships proceeded to the chief naval ports to undergo repair. The Marten Harptez, the ship on board which Wenlock had found refuge, proceeded to Rotterdam.