Sam laughed grimly.
"You look the worse for the wars, my friend."
Smith put his hand to the bound head and looked at the captain reproachfully.
"Your cutlas did it at the pilot-house, sir."
"You should be more careful of the company you keep, my man."
"Yes, sir. I did try to slip away once, but they brought me back."
"Let me look at your head. Perhaps I can do something for it," Evelyn suggested to the sailor.
While she prepared the dressings I put the question to Smith.
"Jimmie. Oh, yes, sir. He's down in the f'c'sle. Gallagher ran across him and took him down there."
This was good news, the best I had heard since the mutiny began. It seemed that the boy had slipped out to get a shot at the enemy, and that his escape had been cut off by the men returning from the attack.