t seemed an age, listening for some sounds.
I was almost sure that the Frenchmen had mastered all our people on
deck, even Ned Bambrick. At length I heard one of the French seamen
speaking; he was making a report to Lieutenant Preville. A loud cheer
was the response, "Vive l'Empereur! vive la France!" I knew full well
by this, that they were in entire possession of the vessel. My heart
sank within me. It was bad enough to lose our prize; it would be worse
to be thrown overboard, or to have our throats cut. I did not, however,
think that the Frenchmen would do that. They would take very good care,
though, that we did not regain the vessel. Such being the case, I
really felt almost indifferent as to what became of us. After all the
civility we had shown Lieutenant Preville, I thought that he might as
well have released me from my uncomfortable position, with my arms
lashed tightly behind me, and a gag in my mouth. I heard some orders
issued in French, and the blocks rattling, and yards creaking as if the
sails were being trimmed, and the schooner's course altered. Hour after
hour passed by; at last I fell asleep with a crick in my neck, and the
sound of a Frenchman's voice in my ear.

"Oh, pauvre miserable!" said the voice; "why we forgot him."

Such was the fact, not very complimentary to my importance. I had been
overlooked. The speaker took the handkerchief off my eyes. It was
daylight, and the schooner was running under all sail before a fair
breeze. Lieutenant Preville soon appeared, and, telling the men to cast
me loose, invited me, in a tone of irony, I fancied, to join my brother
officer at breakfast with him.

Poor McAllister looked dreadfully cast down. We took our seats in
silence. Our host, who had yesterday been our guest, was in high
spirits.

"It is the fortune of war, you well know, Monsieur Merry," he observed
with a provoking smile. "Brave garcons like you know how to bear such
reverses with equanimity. I can feel for you, though, believe me.
Monsieur McAllister, I drink to your health, though I fear that you will
not be a lieutenant as soon as you expected. Here, take some of this
claret; it will revive your spirits."

My messmate seized the decanter of wine, which it is the custom of the
French to have on the table at breakfast, and drank off a large tumbler.
He drew a long breath after he had done so.

"You have the advantage of us this time undoubtedly, Monsieur Preville,"