“Come along,” he said, turning to them; and, bowing to the general and to the other officers, he conducted them from the room, when the two soldiers, who stood ready outside, again took charge of them.
They were led along to a terrace, from whence a view extended over the surrounding country. Here they saw an almost countless number of white tents pitched, with soldiers in various uniforms moving among them.
“Can you count those tents?” asked the colonel. “Each tent contains eleven or thirteen men, and one spirit animates the whole—that is, the conquest of perfidious Albion.”
“They’ll have a tough job, sir, let me tell them,” observed Bill. “I haven’t seen much of English sojers except the Guards in London, and our Marines on board ship, but I know that one of our Guardsmen would lick a whole tentful of the little chaps I see about here; and I would advise the general to stay quietly at home, and not attempt to take our tight little island.”
“The French have wrongs to revenge, as have my gallant people, and bitterly will they revenge them some day, when your king and his nobles are brought in chains to France.”
“That won’t be just yet, and may be never,” answered Bill, who was growing bold, and inclined to speak his mind. “I’ll not bandy words with you, boy. Take care what you are about!” exclaimed the colonel, who did not like Bill’s boldness, especially when he saw a broad grin on Jack’s countenance. “If you ever get back to England—and I don’t say you ever will get back—remember what you have seen to-day, and tell those wretched slaves your countrymen what they are to expect.”
“We’ll not forget it, sir,” answered Bill, thinking it wiser to be civil; “and I hope the general won’t think it necessary to keep in prison two poor sailor boys who never did any harm to the French, and never wished to do any harm, except to thrash them well in a fair stand-up fight; and you will allow, sir, that that’s all right and fair play.”
“Or receive a thrashing from them,” answered the colonel; “however, come along. I must see you stowed safely in the tower, where the general has ordered you to be placed, and moind you kape quiet and don’t kick up a row, as you midshipmen are apt to do.”
“We are not midshipmen, sir,” said Bill, who had not forgotten what the colonel had before said. “We are humble boys serving before the mast. Jack, there, is a fisherman’s son, and I am a poor boy out of the London streets. I am only telling you the truth, sir.”
“You are a very sharp boy, then,” responded the colonel, looking at Bill.