Ronald did not hesitate about accepting the offer; and, as Doull told the boatswain, he looked every inch a midshipman.
Very little had been done when Ronald returned to the prize towards getting her into order; and as he looked fore and aft along the decks, it seemed scarcely possible that she could ever be put in a condition at sea, to make sail, so as to reach a British port in safety. Some of her crew were already mustered on deck, but others were keeping below. He was accordingly directed to take a party of men round the decks to send them up. As he passed it, he looked into the midshipman’s berth, where a boy, whose life he had probably been the means of preserving at the time of boarding, still lay.
The French midshipman recognised him immediately. “Ah! come in, my friend!” he exclaimed, in broken English: “I want to recompense you for what you did for me: but—they told me that you were a ship’s boy, and now I see that you are of the same rank as myself.”
“I was a ship’s boy when I found you under the masts, but now I am a midshipman,” answered Ronald. “But tell me your name—I shall be glad to help you in any way I can.”
“My name—ah—they call me Alfonse Gerardin,” answered the French midshipman. “I am obliged to you for your kindness. A prisoner is little able to requite it. Perhaps I may some day—as I should wish to do.”
“I have done nothing to deserve even thanks,” said Ronald. “But I must not stay. I will come and see you again as soon as I can.”
Mr Strickland, the first lieutenant of the “Thisbe,” being badly wounded, Mr Calder, the second, was directed to take charge of the prize.
Robert Rawson, an old master’s mate, was ordered to go as his second in command, with Glover and Morton as midshipmen, and a master’s assistant called Twigg.
Ronald wished to have remained to look after his father; but Rolf would not hear of it.
“You’ll be better in another ship, away from me, boy,” he remarked. “The doctor and Bobby Doull will look after me. I shall return to my duty in a few days—never fear!”