Ronald would not believe this statement; but the man persisted in it, and seemed obstinately determined to make no other Captain Calder directed Morton to take command of the recaptured “Osterley,” and Glover went as his lieutenant, with a couple of midshipmen, Job Truefitt, Bob Doull, and about thirty other hands. They not being sufficient to work the Indiaman, some twenty of the prisoners were retained on board her. It now became a question what course to steer. At length, as the wind was favourable, Captain Calder resolved to return to Calcutta, and should he not hear of the missing prisoners, to get the admiral to send some other ship in search of them. This determination of the captain was the only consolation Morton could obtain. Still the fact of their having fallen in with the Indiaman was of itself considerable encouragement.
Two or three days passed by; the wind was light, and not much way was made. It would be difficult to describe the varied feelings with which Morton visited the cabins which had been occupied by the Armytage family.
To calm the agitation of his mind, he went on deck and paced up and down by himself. At length, as he turned to walk forward, he saw Bob Doull coming aft, hat in hand, to the quarter-deck. The young seaman gave the usual hitch to his waistband, with a scrape of his foot, while he swung back his hat, and then waited till his superior looked as if he was ready to listen to him.
“What is it, Doull?” asked Morton.
“Please, sir, I’ve found among these outlandish chaps forward, we took aboard the prize, an old man who says as how he knows something about me, sir,” said Bob, twisting his hat round and round.
“About you, my man; who can he be?” inquired the lieutenant.
“Why, sir, he says as how he’s my daddy,” answered Doull, bluntly. “He may be, cause as how my daddy went away to foreign parts many years gone by, and never came back; but if he is, he’s a rum sort of one. I can’t say as how I takes much to the old gentleman as yet.”
“Let me see the man, and hear his story,” said Morton. “I had no idea that we had an Englishman among the prisoners.”
“Bring him aft at once; let him speak to no one; I must question him.”
Before long, Bob Doull was seen dragging along a tall, gaunt, grey-headed man, with a long beard and moustache, on whose head it was evident neither scissors nor razors had operated for many a year past. He was dressed like a French sailor, and except for a peculiar gait and certain movement characteristic of a British seaman, he would have been taken for a Frenchman.