For a long time, not an officer came near me. At length, to my great satisfaction, I saw Dr McCall. He was on his way to see that all proper preparations had been made in the space devoted to his service on the orlop deck for the reception of the wounded.
“Dr McCall,” I cried out to him. “I would not have ventured to have spoken to you, situated as I now am, under any other circumstances, but I have a great favour to ask of you, sir.”
He stopped and listened.
“I need not say that I trust you do not believe me guilty, and I would entreat you to go to the captain and to ask him to allow me to return to my duty during the action. Tell him only what you think of me, and he will, I am sure, give me my freedom till the fight is over. I do not wish to avoid punishment, but it would be a double one to remain manacled here while my shipmates are fighting the enemy.”
“I’ll go,” said the doctor, who had quietly listened to all I said. “I do not believe you guilty. There is little time to lose, though.”
How anxiously I awaited the result of my petition! Every moment I expected to hear the first shot fired, and to find that the action had begun. About three minutes passed. I fancied six times the period had elapsed, when a master’s mate and two men came below.
“The captain gives you leave, Weatherhelm, to return to your duty,” said the officer. “He hopes that you will show you are worthy of the favour.”
“Indeed I will, sir,” I answered as the men knocked the handcuffs off my wrists.
“We’ve a tough job in hand, depend on that.”
“Thank you, sir, thank you,” I exclaimed, as I sprang to my feet and followed my liberators to the upper deck, where the sentry joined his comrades.