CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
ON BOARD.
It was a strange experience, and half asleep and confused, Don couldhardly make out whether he was one of the captives of the press-gang, ora prisoner being conveyed to gaol in consequence of Mike Bannock'scharge.
All seemed to be darkness, and the busy gang of armed men about himworked in a silent, furtive way, hurrying their prisoners, of whom, asthey all stood together in a kind of yard behind some great gates, thereseemed to be about a dozen, some injured, some angry and scowling, andfull of complaints and threats now that they were about to be conveyedaway; but every angry remonstrance was met by one more severe, andsometimes accompanied by a tap from the butt of a pistol, or a blowgiven with the hilt or flat of a cutlass.
"This here's lively, Mas' Don," said Jem, as he stood beside hiscompanion in misfortune.
"I want to speak to the principal officer," said Don, excitedly. "Wemust not let them drive us off as if we were sheep."
"Will you take a bit of good advice, my lad?" said a familiar voice athis ear.
"If it is good advice," said Don, sharply.
"Then hold your tongue, and go quietly. I'll speak to the lieutenantwhen we get aboard."
Don glanced sharply at the bluff-looking boatswain who had spoken, andhe seemed to mean well; but in Don's excitement he could not be sure,and one moment he felt disposed to make a bold dash for liberty, as soonas the gates were opened, and then to shout for help; the next to appealto his fellow-prisoners to make a bold fight for liberty; and whilethese thoughts were running one over another in his mind, a sharp orderwas given, the gates were thrown open, and they were all marched down anarrow lane, dimly lit by one miserable oil lamp at the end.
Almost as they reached the end the familiar odour, damp and seaweedy, ofthe tide reached Don's nostrils; and directly after he found himselfbeing hurried down a flight of wet and slippery stone steps to where alanthorn showed a large boat, into which he was hurried along with therest. Then there was the sensation of movement, as the boat rose andfell. Fresh orders. The splash of oars. A faint creaking sound wherethey rubbed on the tholes, and then the regular measured dip, dip, andsplash, splash.
"Tide runs sharp," said a deep voice. "Give way, my lads, or we shallbe swept by her; that's it."
Don listened to all this as if it were part of a dream, while he gazedwildly about at the dimly-seen moving lights and the black,shadowy-looking shapes of the various vessels which kept on looming up,till after gradually nearing a light away to his left, the boat wassuddenly run up close to a great black mass, which seemed to stand upout of the water that was lapping her sides.
Ten minutes later the boat in which he had come off was hanging to thedavits, and he, in company with his fellows, was being hurried down intoa long low portion of the 'tween decks, with a couple of lanthornsswinging their yellow light to and fro, and trying to make haloes, whilean armed marine stood sentry at the foot of the steps leading up ondeck.
Every one appeared too desolate and despondent to say much; in fact, asDon sat upon the deck and looked at those who surrounded him, they alllooked like so many wounded men in hospital, or prisoners of war, inplace of being Englishmen--whose duty henceforth was to be the defenceof their country.
"Seems rum, don't it?" said Jem in a whisper. "Makes a man feel wild tobe laid hold on like this."
"It's cruel! It's outrageous!" cried Don, angrily.
"But here we are, and--what's that there noise?" said Jem, as a gooddeal of shouting and trampling was heard on deck. Then there was aseries of thumps and more trampling and loud orders.
"Are they bringing some more poor wretches on board, Jem?"
"Dunno. Don't think so. Say, Mas' Don, I often heared tell of thepress-gang, and men being took; but I didn't know it was so bad asthis."
"Wait till morning, Jem, and I hope we shall get justice done to us."
"Then they'll have to do it sharp, for it's morning now, though it's sodark down here, and I thought we were moving; can't you feel?"
Jem was quite right; the sloop was under weigh. Morning had broken sometime; and at noon that day, the hope of being set at liberty was growingextremely small, for the ship was in full sail, and going due west.