Chapter Nine.
Treatment of the prisoners—Chased by a privateer—The pressed men armed—The fight—Dick’s gallantry—Capture of the lugger—Prize crew sent on board—Attempt of the Frenchmen to take the cutter—Dick Hargrave’s presence of mind—Reception on board the frigate—Nearly flogged—Ben Rudall’s statement—The captain’s dilemma—Dick’s gratitude.
Dick was not the only occupant of the cutter’s hold. There were several other men—some pressed, others released from prison on condition of serving on board the fleet; and these for security were kept down below, until they were placed on board the ships for which they were destined. Besides them there were a few volunteers, mostly young men, who had joined at the places at which the cutter had touched.
Daylight was streaming down the hatchway when Dick awoke. The cutter was still at anchor. He knew that although he was so near home there was no chance of his friends learning where he was, and of their trying to obtain his release. His father he would rather not see. He made out, from the conversation going on around him, that the cutter was bound down to Plymouth, with men for the Wolf, to replace those who had been killed and wounded. If he had any wish, it was that the vessel would get under way. He was eager to face the worst, and get it over as soon as possible. A dull stupor at length came over him, and for long he sat neither asleep nor awake, without thinking. He could hear the tramp of feet overhead; still the vessel remained stationary. He was aroused when the breakfast was served out to him and the other prisoners. He ate mechanically, exchanging only a few words with those near him, and then went off into the same state as before. At length he heard feet descending the companion ladder, and looking up, he saw the officer who had captured him holding a lantern in his hand, accompanied by two persons, whom he recognised as Lord Reginald and Mr Voules.
“Is that the young fellow, my lord, who deserted from the Wolf,” asked the officer.
“No doubt about it,” answered Lord Reginald. “I’m glad you have caught him.”
“I should have known him from among a hundred,” said Voules, “though he has got out of his sea rig. Take care that he doesn’t get away from you. I should be sorry if he escapes the flogging he’ll get on board!”
“You see I have him fast enough at present,” answered the officer, pointing to the handcuffs on Dick’s wrists, “He may be very clever, but he’ll not get out of those in a hurry.”
The midshipmen looked round, but could identify no other prisoners as deserters from their ship.
“I shall not sail until the tide makes to the westward; so if your lordship intends to honour me by returning in the cutter to Plymouth, you will have time to go back to Elverston and get your traps,” Dick heard the lieutenant observe as they ascended the companion ladder; but the reply did not reach his ears. As the cutter remained stationary, he had good reason to fear that the two midshipmen would take a passage in her, and that he should be subjected to their taunts and ill-treatment, and have no chance of being set at liberty, which he might otherwise have had when they once got to sea. Whether or not he was right in his conjectures he could not tell. He heard several persons come on board; then the anchor was hove up, and the cutter got under way. He would have given much to have sent a message on shore, but he had no opportunity.