“Well, boys, this is a nate piece of work you’ve been after doing now!” remarked our handsome second lieutenant, as he surveyed the deck. “You don’t mean to say that you captured all these heroes?”
“Every one of them, sir,” said Grey, with perfect seriousness. “I hope the captain won’t be angry.”
“There’s no saying. However, we’ll see,” he answered with a smile.
We now made more sail, and ran in close under the lee of the frigate.
Perigal was sent on board the schooner to take charge of her, and the prisoners were transferred to the deck of the frigate, where the captain and most of the officers were assembled. Mr Johnson met me. He had just time to say, “I congratulate you, Mr Merry. You’ve done well. You are worthy of my teaching!” when the prisoners were summoned aft.
We had given the old colonel his sword, that he might present it in due form. He marched aft at the head of his men, and presented it to Captain Collyer with a profound bow.
The Captain then addressed him. I was afterwards told what he said. It was—
“I am surprised, monsieur, that you, an experienced soldier, who have seen much service, should allow yourself and your men to be captured by a single boat’s crew and two midshipmen.”
“Ma foi!” exclaimed the colonel, with an inimitable shrug of his shoulders, and an indescribable expression of countenance, indicative of intense disgust. “I am a brave man; I fear nothing—mais c’est ce terrible mal de mer!” (this terrible sea-sickness.)
I do not know what Captain Collyer said in return, but I fancy he did not pay the colonel any compliments on his gallantry. (I only hope that Frenchmen, on other occasions, may have their valour cooled down to zero by that terrible sea-sickness.) Grey and I were very agreeably surprised when, instead of being reprimanded for what we had done, the captain praised us very much for the daring way in which we had taken the schooner. Mr Fitzgerald had told him all the particulars beforehand. Somebody, however, was to blame for having taken the arms in the boat. All the men, however, declared that they knew nothing about it, but that the getting them in had been entirely managed by Ned Dawlish, who, being dead, could say nothing in his defence, and was therefore found guilty. The truth was, that the captain was very well-pleased at what had been done, and was ready to overlook the disobedience of orders of which the men had been guilty.