It was a job to get the ship round; and when we did, there was the _Vryheid_, with her one mast left, waiting for us as saucy as ever. After that, all passed for me in even a greater maze than before; for a bullet from the enemy's rigging found me out with a dull thud in the shoulder, and sent me reeling on to the deck. I was able after the first shock to stumble up and get my hands upon the helm; but I stood there sick and silly, and of less use than the poor quartermaster at my feet. I was dimly conscious of a din and smoke, like the opening of the gate of hell. Then, through a drift in the smoke, I could see the tall form of the Dutch admiral standing almost alone on his quarter-deck, as cool as if he were on the street at Amsterdam, passing a word of command through his trumpet. Beyond him I caught a glimpse of the low Dutch sand-hills, not two leagues to leeward. Then, away to our right, came the faint noise of British cheers above the firing. Then some one near me exclaimed, "Struck, by Saint George!" and almost directly after the firing seemed to cease, and our fellows, springing on to the yards and bulwarks, set up such a cheer that the _Venerable_ shook with it. I tried to get up my head to see what it was all about, but as I did so I tumbled all in a heap on the deck--and the battle of Camperdown was finished for me. It was nearly dark when I came to between decks, with a burning pain in my shoulder and my mouth as dry as a brick. The place was full of groaning men, some worse hit than myself, and one or two past the help of the surgeon, who slowly went his round of the berths. By the time he reached me I did not much care if he were to order me overboard, so long as he put me out of my misery. But, after all, mine was a simple case. There was a bullet in me somewhere, and a few bone-splinters were wandering about my system. Apparently I could wait till my neighbour, whose thigh bone was crushed, was seen to. So while he, poor fellow, was having his leg cut off, and beginning to bleed to death (for he didn't outlive the operation an hour), I lay, with my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth, groaning. "Ah, Mr Gallagher," said the first lieutenant, as he came the round, "they picked you out, did they? Nothing much, I hope? It's cost us a pretty penny in dead and wounded already." "And we beat them?" groaned I. "Beat? We made mincemeat of them! Haven't we the Dutch admiral a prisoner on board this moment, playing cards with Admiral Duncan in his cabin as comfortably as if he was in his own club at the Hague?" "Could you give me some water?" I asked, with a sudden change of the subject. "Surely; and, Mr Gallagher, I'll see you again before we land, and won't forget to put your name forward."