“Better run the chance of a watery grave than live aboard there,” shouted one of the men, attempting to hoist the sail which had been lowered. “Hurrah, lads! for the coast of America and freedom!”
“Back into the boat: back, you mutinous scoundrels!” shouted the officer in command. “What foolery are you about? If you were to go, and small loss you would be, you would all of you be dead before a week was over. Back, I say.”
In vain the men tried to hoist the sail. The mast gave way, throwing one of them into the sea. He made an attempt to save himself, but sank in sight of his shipmates. The boat was soon again dropped alongside the raft, and the men with sulky indifference returned on board. Very little was said by anybody as the boats pulled back to the frigate. The officers, indeed, saw that those they had taken off the raft were in no condition to answer questions. Devereux and his companions were lifted up on deck, and from thence at once transferred to the sick bay below under the doctor’s care. Paul, after a sound sleep, recovered his senses, and very soon perceived, that although there was strict discipline maintained on board, each person went about his duty in a dull, mechanical way. Reuben was, however, on foot before Paul. He came to the side of the hammock in which the latter still lay unable to move.
“I am thankful, Reuben, that we are safe off that dreadful raft,” said Paul.
“No reason to call it dreadful, boy. It was our ark of safety, as Jim Croxton says, rightly, and we should be grateful that we were allowed to be saved by it. There’s many here, as you saw, would rather be on that raft than aboard this fine frigate,” answered Reuben.
“Why? what is the matter with the ship?” asked Paul.
“Why, just this,” answered his friend; “the captain is a tyrant; many of the officers imitate him, and altogether the men’s lives are miserable. The ship is a complete hell afloat.”
Several days passed by; the frigate was steering for the West Indies, which were sighted soon after Paul had managed to creep on deck. He saw the men casting wistful glances at the land.
“If once I set my foot ashore, it will take a dozen red coats to carry me aboard again!” exclaimed a seaman near him.
“Ay, Bill, it’s a dog’s life we lead; but there’s a way to free ourselves if we were men enough to use it,” said another.