On board the prize—Ben gives bad advice—A strange line-of-battle ship—Friend or foe?—The Wolf and her prize reach Plymouth—Not allowed to go ashore—Peter Purkiss—Dick deserts—Homeward bound—Visit to the smuggler’s wife—Reception at the farm—Dick recognised by Lord Reginald and Voules—Fear of being retaken—Dick leaves home—Captured and sent on board a cutter.
The Wolf, with a fair breeze, having her prize in tow, shaped a course for Plymouth. The wind though favourable was light, and should it continue so, it would be some time before she could reach her destination. It was fortunate, however, that the sea was smooth, as it enabled the carpenters the more easily to get at the numerous shot-holes in the sides of the prize, and to stop the water coming in, which it had been doing at a rapid rate, making it necessary to keep the pumps constantly going. This was hard work for the prize crew, for the few Frenchmen left on board, though they did not refuse to go to the pumps, worked listlessly, and very soon knocked off, declaring that they could work no more. The British seamen had therefore to work away until they could stand no longer.
Lieutenant Jager, commanding the prize, had sent Lord Reginald and Voules to see that the crew at the pumps were persevering in their labours. Among them his eye fell on Ben Rudall and Richard Hargrave, who had both been working away for some time until their arms ached.
“Spell oh!” cried Ben.
“Spell oh!” echoed Dick, in order that some other men might come and help them.
“Keep at your work, you idle rascals!” cried Lord Reginald.
“I am not an ‘idle rascal,’” answered Ben, leaving the pump and folding his arms; “I have been working for two hours, and can work no longer until I have had some rest.”
Dick, who could really work no longer, and was wellnigh ready to drop to the deck, also knocked off, though he said nothing.
Lord Reginald’s anger was aroused in a moment. Seizing a rope, he struck Dick across the shoulders. “Go back, both of you!” he exclaimed; “we can have no skulking on board here.”
“I am not skulking,” answered Dick, again seizing the pump handle and working away as hard as his strength would allow.