uld take my
chance as prisoner of war rather than risk being shot as a renegade or
pressed into the King's service. For it seemed to me that the chances of
being shot were considerable, since none would credit my story that I had
been five months aboard a French warship except of my own free will. And as
to the King's forced service, it was hated by all, and my own needs claimed
my first endeavours.

So I answered them in French, in a voice that thundered in my head, that
the explosion had deafened me and I could not hear a word they said. They
understood and nodded cheerfully, and went on with their search.

Out of our whole ship's company six only were saved, and not one of them
officers.

In the first moments of safety the lack of hearing had seemed to me of
small account, compared with the fact that I was still alive. But, as we
turned and made for the ship, the strange sensation of hearing only through
the feelings of the body grew upon me; the thought of perpetual silence
began to appal me. I could feel the sound of the oars in the rowlocks, and
the dash of the waves against the boat, but though I could see men's lips
moving it was all no more to me than dumb show.

They were busily cleaning the ship when we came aboard, but I could see
what a great fight the _Josephine_ had made of it. A long row of dead lay
waiting decent burial, and every second man one saw was damaged in one way
or another.

My companions were all more or less dazed, and probably deafened like
myself. An officer questioned them, but apparently with small success. He
turned to me, and I told him I could hear nothing because of the explosion,
but I gave him all particulars as to the _Josephine_,--captain's name,
number of men and guns, and whence we came, and that was what he wanted.

In the official report the saving of six out of a crew of over three
hundred was, I suppose, not considered worth mentioning. The _Josephine_,
was reported sunk with all on board, and that, as it turned out, was not
without its concern for me.

CHAPTER XXIII

HOW I LAY AMONG LOST SOULS

The ship we were on was the 48-gun frigate _Swiftsure_, and of our
treatment we had no reason to complain. We were landed at Portsmouth two
days later, drafted from one full prison to another, from Forton to the Old
Mill at Plymouth, from Plymouth to Stapleton near Bristol, separated by
degrees and circumstances, till at last I found myself one more lost soul
in t