As True Blue sat at Paul’s head, his godfather looked up. “Ah, boy!” he said with a deep sigh, “this is the worst thing that I ever thought could happen to us; yet it’s a comfort to think that it isn’t our own brave frigate that has been taken, and that a number of our shipmates haven’t been struck down by the enemy’s fire. But it’s the thoughts of the French prison tries me. Yet, Billy, I don’t mind even that so much as I should have done once. You are now a big strong chap, and you won’t let them make a Frenchman of you, as they might have done when you were little, will you?”
“No, Paul; they’ll have a very tough job if they try it on—that they will,” answered True Blue with a scornful laugh which perfectly satisfied his godfather.
“What are the brutes of Englishmen talking about?” growled out one of the Frenchmen. “Hold your tongues, dogs.”
Neither Paul nor True Blue understood these complimentary remarks; but the tone of the speaker’s voice showed them that it might be more prudent to be silent.
As soon as Captain Jones and his mates and the two midshipmen appeared above the gangway of the French frigate, they were seized on by a party of seamen, who threw them on the deck, knocked off their hats, out of which they tore the cockades, and, with oaths, trampled them beneath their feet.
In vain Captain Jones in a manly way appealed to the good feelings of his captors. In vain Sir Henry Elmore repeated what he said in French. The Frenchmen were deaf to all expostulations. The second Captain of the frigate stood by, not only superintending, but aiding in inflicting the indignities with which they were treated.
They were next dragged off and brought into the Captain’s own cabin. Here they expected to be better treated; but no sooner did the Captain enter, than, walking up and down and showering on them the most abusive epithets, he ordered his men to take away their swords and dirks, and to strip off their coats and waistcoats, exclaiming as he did so:
“No one on board La Ralieuse shall wear the livery of a despot—one of those hateful things, a King. Bah!” The Captain and his second in command, having thus vented their rage and spite, ordered the men to carry off their prisoners. The Captain and the young officers were therefore again unceremoniously dragged out of the cabin and forced down below into a space in the hold, dimly lighted by a single lantern. There they found the greater part of the crew already assembled, bursting with rage and indignation at the way they had been treated.
Meantime the boat which contained Paul Pringle, with Tom Marline, True Blue, and the other two boys, arrived alongside the frigate. The French sailors were going to hoist up Paul with very little consideration for his hurts, when, in spite of their black looks, Tom shoved in his shoulder, vehemently exclaiming:
“Avast, ye lubbers! Can’t you see that the man has his ribs stove in? Send down proper slings to lift him on deck, or out of this boat he don’t go while I’ve an arm to strike for him.”