with pleasure, my noble captain," said the bluff man,
with mock solemnity; "but his Majesty is in sore need just now of some
dashing young fellows who can fight; and he said to our first
lieutenant, `short of men, Mr Morrison? Dear me, are you? Well then,
the best thing you can do is to send round Bristol city, and persuade a
few of the brave and daring young fellows there to come on board my good
ship _Great Briton_, and help me till I've settled my quarrel with my
enemies,' so we have persuaded you."

"You are adding insult to what you have done, sir. Now let us pass.
You and your miserable press-gang shall smart for this. Stand aside,
sir."

"What, after taking all this trouble? Hardly."

"Here, I'm all right again now, Mas' Don. Press-gang, eh?" cried Jem.
"Here, let me get at him."

Jem made a dash at the bluff man, but his arms were seized, and he was
held back, struggling hard.

"Ah, I wish we had fifty of you," said the bluff man. "Don't hurt him,
my lads. There, there, steady; you can't do anything. That will do.
Save your strength to fight for the king."

"You cowards!" cried Jem, who suddenly turned so faint that the men
easily mastered him, laid him on his back, and one held him down, while
another held Don till the rest had passed out, the bluff man only
standing at the entrance with another holding up the light.

"Come along," he shouted; and the man who held Jem left him, and ran
out.

"Do you hear?" cried the bluff man again. "Come along!"

"How can I, when he's sticking on like a rat?" growled the man who held
Don. "Did you ever see such a young ruffian?"

The bluff man took a stride or two forward, gripped Don by the shoulder,
and forced him from his hold.

"Don't be a young fool," he said firmly, but not unkindly. "It's
plucky, but it's no good. Can't you see we're seven to one?"

"I don't care if you're a hundred," raged Don, struggling hard, but
vainly.

"Bravo, boy! That's right; but we're English, and going to be your
messmates. Wait till you get at the French; then you may talk like
that."

He caught Don by the hips, and with a dexterous Cornish wrestling trick,
raised him from the ground, and then threw him lightly beside Jem.

"You'll do," he said. "I thought we'd let you go, because you're such a
boy, but you've got the pluck of a man, and you'll soon grow."

He stepped quickly to the entrance, and Don struggled to his feet, and
dashed at him again, but on