Chapter Eight.
The Good-natured Seamen—Pierre Lamont—David’s Employment—The Republican Officer.
No one seemed disposed to pay the slightest attention to the two boys. The officers glanced at them superciliously. The captain, after taking a few turns on deck, scowled on them as he passed on his way below. They were left standing on the deck of the schooner, which went flying on before the still increasing gale. They were wet and cold, and grieving for the loss of their old friend, as well as very anxious about the sorrow their absence would cause their relatives at home.
“I suppose the Frenchmen won’t let us starve altogether,” said David. “The officers indeed don’t seem inclined to treat us well, but perhaps the men may be differently disposed. I propose that, having done what we considered our duty, we go forward and throw ourselves upon their kindness. Still, as I’m a quarter-deck officer, we ought to be treated with respect by the officers. I’m sure, if we had picked up two French midshipmen on board our frigate, we should have made regular pets of them, and given them no cause to complain.”
“But remember this is not a frigate,” observed David; “I think it will be wiser to put our dignity in our pockets, and make the best of things as they are.”
Still Harry held out for some little time; but at length the surly looks of the officers, not to mention his hunger, made him yield to David’s suggestions, and they quietly worked their way forward. As soon as the backs of the officers were turned the men came round them, and by the expression of their countenances showed that they at least bore them no ill-will. One or two, by signs, invited them below, and they were very glad to escape from the cold autumn gale which was blowing through their wet clothes. Although unable to communicate by words, the lads had no difficulty in making their wishes known to the Frenchmen by signs. Some dry clothes were quickly produced from the bag of a young seaman. As soon as Harry and David had dressed themselves in these, some provisions and a bottle of wine were brought to them, the Frenchmen standing round looking on with great satisfaction while they discussed them.
“Buvez, me amis,” said a stout good-natured looking seaman, pouring out a glass of claret. The boys guessed by his signs clearly enough what he said, and thanked him by nodding in return. They both felt considerably better for their repast.
“If it wasn’t for the loss of poor old Jefferies, I should not have minded it at all,” said David; “but for him to lose his life, and for us to find ourselves little better than prisoners on board a Frenchman, is very trying.”