Chapter Three.
“Good-bye” to the Convoy.
“Hillo! who have we here?” I heard one of the mates exclaim, as I was taking a last look of our receding antagonist. “Is this a dead man?”
“No, not entirely, as yet,” said a voice which proceeded, I found, from a person lying on the deck.
I remembered my prisoner, and ran to lift him up. He recognised my voice. “If it hadn’t been for you I should have been dead enough by this time,” he said, getting on his feet.
“Who are you?” I asked, “a friend or a foe?”
“A friend; or I wouldn’t be here at all,” he answered, in a tone which made me feel certain that he spoke the truth.
“Well, come into the cabin, and tell me all about the matter,” I said; for though he spoke broad Irish, I saw by his manner that he was above the rank of a common seaman. His appearance when he came into the light justified me in my opinion.
“It’s just this; I was first mate of a fine brig, the Kathleen. We had been down in the eastern seas, and away into the Pacific, over to America, trading for some time with the natives, and bringing hides, seal-skins, and sandal-wood to the Chinamen; and at last, having made a successful voyage, we were on our homeward passage, when yonder piratical craft fell in with us. Each man had been promised a share of the profits, so that we had something to fight for. Fight our poor fellows did, till there was scarcely one of them left unhurt. We none of us thought of striking, though; but at last the rascally pirates ran us aboard, and as they swarmed along our decks cut down every man who still stood on his legs. How I escaped without a hurt I don’t know. I soon had other troubles; for, being uninjured, I was at once carried aboard our captor, but before the Frenchmen could secure their prize, she blew up, with every soul on board, and there was I left a prisoner alone. I almost envied the fate of our crew. The loss of the prize, which had cost them so many lives and so much trouble, made the Frenchmen very savage, especially their captain, who is about as daring a villain as ever ploughed salt water. This determined him, when he fell in with your convoy, to try and cut one of them out. He fixed on you because you were of a size which he thought he could tackle easily, and he hoped to take you by surprise. Why he did not kill me outright I do not know, for he treated me like a brute from the moment he got me in his power; and when we ran you alongside he made me get into the rigging that I might be shot at; and I thought to myself, The safest plan is to jump aboard, and if I escape a knock on the head I may stow myself away before any one sees me. Such is the end of my history at present.”