o join together at his throat.

"Seventeen, sir."

"And how many had we before?--twenty-six, I think."

"Twenty-seven, sir, with the young chap I sent on board last night."

"Well, that will do; it's quite as many as we can stow away, or take
care of:--pass them all down below, forward; take up the ladder, and put
on the grating until we are out of the harbour. As soon as the
jolly-boat comes on board we'll up anchor."

"She'll be off directly, sir; I ordered her to wait for Johnson and
Merton, who did not come down with us."

"Do you think they have given you the slip?"

"I should think not, sir. Here is the jolly-boat coming off."

"Well, pass the men forward and secure them," replied the lieutenant.
"Overhaul the boat's falls, and bring to with the windlass."

Newton thought this a good opportunity to state that he was the master
of a vessel, and, as such, protected from the impress; he therefore
walked over to the lieutenant, addressing him, "I beg your pardon,
sir--"

"Who are you?" interrupted the lieutenant, gruffly.

"I was impressed last night, sir;--may I speak to you?"

"No, sir, you may not."

"It might save you some trouble, sir--"

"It will save me more to send you down below. Mr Vincent, shove this man
down forward; why is he at large?"

"He was under the doctor's hands, I believe, sir. Come this way, my
hearty--stir your stumps."

Newton would have expostulated, but he was collared by two of the
press-gang, and very unceremoniously handed forward to the hatchway; the
grating was taken off, and he was lowered down to the deck below, where
he found himself cooped up with more than forty others, almost
suffocated for the want of air and space. The conversation (if
conversation it could be called) was nothing but one continued string of
curses and execrations, and vows of deep revenge.

The jolly-boat returned, pulling only two oars; the remainder of her
crew, with Johnson and Merton, having taken this opportunity of
deserting from their forced servitude. With some hearty execrations upon
the heads of the offending parties, and swearing that by G--d there was
no such thing as _gratitude_ in a sailor, the commander of the cutter
weighed his anchor, and proceeded to sea.

The orders received by the lieutenant of the cutter, although not
precisely specifying, still implying, that he was to bring back his
cargo alive, as soon as his Majesty's cutter _Lively_ was fairly out at
sea the hatch