“If that was the name of the lady you were kneeling by I regret to say
that she was. It was impossible to save her; for though I tried my best I
could not lift her. As you call her Miss Morrison I presume she is not a
close relation.”
“No, she had been my governess since I was a child, and has been a mother
to me. Oh, to think that she is dead while I am saved!”
“You must remember that it might have been worse,” Will said; “you
certainly cannot require a governess many more years, and will find others
on whom to bestow your affection. How old are you?”
“I am fourteen,” the girl said.
“Well, here is my ship, and we will all do our best to make you
comfortable.”
“Your ship!” the girl said in surprise; “do you mean to say that you are
in command of her? You do not look more than a boy.”
“I am not much more than a boy,” he said with a smile, “but for all that I
am the commander of this vessel, and this young gentleman is my second in
command.”
CHAPTER VIII
A SPLENDID HAUL
When all were got on board, and the boats hoisted to the davits, Will
conducted the ladies down to the cabin, which he handed over to them.
Then, having ordered the cook to prepare some hot soup for the girl he had
rescued, he came on deck again and questioned the male passengers.
“We were all dressing for dinner,” one said, “when we heard a shouting on
deck. Almost immediately there was a great bump, which knocked most of us
off our feet, and we thought that we had been run into, but directly
afterwards we heard a great tumult going on above us, and we guessed that
the ship had been attacked by pirates. The clashing of swords and the
falling of bodies went on for two or three minutes, and then there was a
loud savage yell that told us that the pirates had taken the ship. Next
moment the ruffians rushed down upon us, took away any valuables we had
about our persons, and then tied us up and threw us on the sofas. After
scouring all the cabins they left us, and by the noise that followed we
guessed that they had removed the hatches and were getting up the cargo.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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