oat's crew in charge of the first mate to take
possession of her.

I was not among those who were told off for this duty, but the
fever of adventure had got such a hold upon me that I was hungry to
take a share in what was toward. So I contrived to slip into the
boat at the last moment, at some peril of a ducking, and mounted
the Frenchman's deck with the rest. Then I wished that I had not
been so impetuous, for the sight that met my eye was more terrible
than anything I had ever imagined, and explained the surrender.
Scores of wounded and dying men were strewn over the decks; their
groans and piteous looks turned my heart sick. But such sights were
no new thing to the rest of the crew. They set to work with amazing
coolness to clear the decks, and get the vessel into trim, our
captain having ordered the mate to rig jury masts, under which he
hoped to sail the prize to England.

This seemed to me, I own, an enterprise of much danger, for we were
near the French coast, and might easily fall in with a French
frigate, or even a squadron of the enemy's vessels. But the prize
was exceedingly valuable, and Captain Cawson was no more unwilling
than any other English seaman to run a certain risk. Accordingly
the soldiers and passengers on board the Frenchman were sent below
and battened under hatches, and the crew was made to assist our men
in cutting away the rigging and splicing and setting up the weather
shrouds. The lighter sails were stripped off the foremast, the mate
thinking to bring her into port under mizzen and main sail,
together with all the fore and aft canvas that could be safely set.

'Twas the work of several hours to get things shipshape, the
Dolphin meanwhile lying by to give us countenance and protection.
When all was trim and taut we set a course for our own shores,
following the Dolphin about three cables' lengths astern.

'Twas drawing towards sunset when she signalled to us that a sail
was in sight. This news caused much commotion among us, still more
when our own lookout cried that the vessel bearing towards us under
press of sail out of the west was beyond doubt a frigate, and in
all likelihood a Frenchman. I knew our case would be parlous if
indeed it was so, for neither the privateer nor the merchant barque
we had captured was armed in any wise to match a line-of-battle
ship. Moreover 'twas unlikely that in our partly crippled condition
we could out-sail the vessel: and when the mate, taking a l