Captain Brine highly applauded the gallant way in which the schooner had been taken.
“Ay, sir, and I wish you could have seen my godson as his cutlass cleared the Frenchman’s decks!” exclaimed Paul.
“I have no doubt about it,” answered the Captain. “It is no fault of his friends that he is not on the quarterdeck. But for yourself, Mr Pringle, I wish to know what reward you would like, that I may do my best to secure it for you.”
“I have not thought about that, sir; but if you could spare me, I should be glad to have charge of the prize to take her to Jamaica. I should just like to find out how I feel acting as Captain.”
Captain Brine was amused at Paul’s notion.
“But how will the Gannet get on without her boatswain, Mr Pringle?” asked the Captain. “She can ill spare him, I should think.”
“Why, sir, I thought about that, and wouldn’t have asked leave if I didn’t know my place would be well filled while I was away,” replied Paul. “There’s my first mate, Dick Marlowe, a very steady man, who hopes to pass as boatswain when he gets to England; and I’ll engage the duty is properly done while he is acting for me.”
“But you and the rest are wounded. How can you do without a surgeon?” said Captain Brine.
“Mere fleabites, sir—nothing to signify. The doctor has patched up my side, and says I shall do well; and the lads I wish to take with me are only slightly hurt, and don’t want doctoring.”
The Captain, on sending for the surgeon and hearing his report, made no further objections, but promised compliance with Paul’s wishes, the more readily that the Gannet herself was to go to Jamaica in a week or two.