He was much relieved in his mind when he saw one of the Frenchmen lying not far off dead on the deck, and another sitting bound, where Paul and True Blue had placed him, between the guns.
“What! have we come off victorious in the struggle?” he exclaimed, turning to Marline.
“Yes, sir,” answered the seaman, “we’ve been and drubbed the Monsieurs; but there are still two on ’em below kicking up a bobbery. If you’ll take the helm, sir, I’ll go and help Pringle to make them fast.”
“No, no,” answered the midshipman somewhat indignantly, as if his courage or strength had been called in question. “I can do that. You stay at the helm.”
When the Frenchman and the black had jumped down into the forepeak, Tim Fid had very wisely clapped the hatch on, so that they were left in darkness, and were also unable to return again on deck. Pringle was on the point of taking off the hatch to secure the two men when the midshipman got forward.
“Very glad, sir, to see you all to rights,” said Paul, looking up. “I suppose that you’ll wish us to get hold of the two fellows down below?”
“By all means. I’ll hail them and advise them to surrender at discretion.”
The hatch was taken off, and Mr Nott explained, as well as his limited knowledge of French would allow, that all their chance of success was gone. Only the black man answered. Mr Nott ordered him to come up.
“L’autre est mort,” (the other is dead), said he as he made his appearance, looking very much frightened.
“He is as treacherous as the rest; it will not do to let him be at liberty,” said Mr Nott. “It was he who knocked me down and began the mutiny.”