A Middy of the King: A Romance of the Old British NavyCollingwood, Harry
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A Middy of the King: A Romance of the Old British Navy
Collingwood, Harry
Great Britain -- Fiction; Pirates -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
Oh! how I execrated my folly, now that it was too late, and I was being
hurried along the rough path by the jubilant trio who had captured me
and who were in a great hurry to rejoin the main body of outlaws. And
how fervently I hoped and prayed that none of the rest of the whites at
Bella Vista might be as foolish as I had been. My thoughts went back to
the wounded men lying scattered here and there round the house and
within musket-shot of it, and for a moment my soul sickened with dread
as I thought of what might happen if they too were merely shamming. But
the fear was only momentary; I remembered that the hurts of every one of
them were visibly, indisputably real, serious enough to disable and
render them harmless; and I hoped that my failure to return would put
the whole household upon its guard and, by demonstrating to them my
imprudence, open their eyes to the fact that all danger was not
necessarily over because the brigands had withdrawn.
My companions were in high feather at having achieved my capture, and
extolled the shrewdness of a certain Mateo--who, I gathered from their
remarks, was their new chief, in place of the deceased Petion--in having
devised so ingenious a trap as the one into which I had unsuspectingly
fallen. Moreover, they endeavoured to beguile the way by drawing vivid
word-pictures--presumably in the hope of frightening me and enjoying my
terror--of the unspeakable torments that would be inflicted upon me by
way of appeasing the manes of those of their comrades who had fallen in
the attack upon the house. Truly I might very well have been excused
had I blenched at the prospect which, according to them, lay before me;
for if they were to be believed, it was not an hour or two, but several
days of excruciating suffering which I might expect. However, I did not
by any means believe all that they said. They might be clever enough
actors, so far as shamming being wounded was concerned, but in the finer
art of inflicting suffering in anticipation they were mere clumsy
bunglers, for they lacked that finer sense of dissimulation which endows
a man with the power of lying with conviction; they allowed their motive
to become apparent; and, seeing this, I disappointed them by laughing in
their faces. Besides, whether what they said was truth or falsehood, I
was not going to afford a trio of sable outlaws the satisfaction of
boasting that they had succeeded in frightening an Englishman.
Enlivening the way with such conversation as I have hinted at, we
trudged along the upward path for a distance of about a mile and a half,
when we suddenly came upon a wide-open space where the main body of the
outlaws had halted to rest and refresh themselves, and also, as I soon
became aware by the trend of the general conversation, to determine
whether they should return to their head-quarters, or proceed to attack
some other estate in the immediate neighbourhood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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