When I came to my senses, I saw the wherry dropping astern, and the Frenchmen, with pump-handles and boat-hooks, striking at the poor fellows they had hove overboard, with the foul intent of drowning them. I observed that somebody was in the wherry, for her sails were being hoisted, and I was bolting aft for the purpose of jumping into the water and swimming to her, when the skipper caught me by the arm. “Stay, my little fellow,” he exclaimed; “we don’t want to hurt you, and don’t want witnesses to this work. You must go with us.”
While he was speaking, some of the smugglers had got hold of the muskets which our people had brought on board, and presenting them at the wherry, snapped the locks. Fortunately they were not loaded, or the priming had fallen out, and the villains were saved from the perpetration of further crimes.
The men in the water swam towards the wherry, and I judged from her movements that those in her were engaged in picking them up. I sang out and struggled in vain; but the Frenchman held me fast, and finally, to save himself further trouble, lifted me up by the collar and shoved me down the companion-hatch into the cabin, closing the slide over me. There was I, like a mouse caught in a trap. At first I burst into a fit of tears, more from rage and indignation at being outwitted and surprised by the Frenchman than from the prospect in store for me, which was not, however, very pleasant. I might expect to be kept a prisoner in some out-of-the-way place in France, or perhaps, to be shipped to the other side of the globe and to be unable to return home for years to come. I made ineffectual attempts to get on deck to see what had become of Hanks and our men; but as I could not move the slide, I was obliged to sit down quietly in the cabin. My melting mood was soon over. “Better now,” thought I to myself. “I won’t let these big blackguards of Frenchmen see me down-hearted, any how. For the honour of old Ireland and the name of D’Arcy, I’ll put a bold face on the matter,” and I began to sing.
There was a row on deck, and a great deal of jabbering; and the little vessel heeled over to the breeze; but I had no means of discovering what was taking place, nor where we were going.
The only light let into the vessel was through a bulls-eye in the deck, so that at first I thought I was shut up in darkness. As, however, my sight got accustomed to the glimmer, I discovered a fiddle and bow hung up against the bulkhead.
“Come,” thought I, “I’ll show the froggies that, though they may shut me up, they can’t damp my spirits in a hurry,” and seizing the instrument, I struck up an Irish jig. It was the most jolly tune I could recollect, and seldom failed to move the heels of all who heard it. I played away for some time without any notice being taken of my music; then I heard one fellow begin to shuffle away overhead, and then another, and presently it appeared as if the whole crew were toeing and heeling it in fine style. Then there were loud fits of laughter; and afterwards the slide was withdrawn and the skipper descended into the cabin.
“Vell, you are, bon garçon, one merry fellow,” he said, laughing. “You make good use of my violin.”
“I am fond of music, and play when I can,” I answered in an indifferent tone; “but I’m tired now, and intend to go to sleep.”
“Well, but I have come to take you on deck to play to my people,” said he. “They are pleased with you, and it will be better for you if you do.”
“What! you ask me to play for the amusement of the men who have been ill-treating my shipmates, and murdering them, for what I know to the contrary,” I answered, indignantly. “No! I played for my own amusement, and do not intend to play any more.”