“Where are we?”
“On board a ship.”
“What ship, what ship?” asked Dick, still confused.
“That’s more than I can say,” answered Lancelot, “We shall soon know, however.”
Chapter Four.
On Board His Majesty’s Frigate.
Scarcely were we on board the ship than the gale came down with greater fury than before, so that the seamen being required to hand the sails left us to ourselves. Two or three persons, however, gathered round us, one of whom—the surgeon, I concluded—advised that we should be taken below, and stripped of our wet clothes, for our teeth were chattering with the cold.
Very thankful to be so treated, we had no time to ask questions before we found ourselves in the officers’ cabin; Dick and I being placed in one bed, and Lancelot in another, while Martin was allowed to go forward among the men, to obtain such assistance from them as they were inclined to give.