As it was no use concealing the fact, we replied: a portion of the
privateer's men then went down, and surprised them all in their beds.
In about five minutes they came up again, leading the lieutenant and his
men, in their shirts. By the directions of the French captain they were
immediately passed over the side into the privateer, and Bramble and I
were the only two Englishmen left on board of the ship.
The French captain then asked us if we knew where we were, and whether
there was any danger. We replied that we were among the sands, and that
it would be difficult to get her out of them with that wind, and
impossible until the tide turned.
"When will the tide turn?" said the captain.
"In an hour or less," replied Bramble, appealing to me. I replied in
the affirmative.
"Well, then, you will take this vessel clear of the shoals, my men; and
if you do not, your lives are worth nothing:--hold pistols to their
heads," continued he to the officer, "and the moment that the ship
touches, blow their brains out."
Here Bramble, to my astonishment, went on his knees. "Spare our lives,"
said he, "and we will take the vessel safe to the French coast;" at the
same time he gave me a pinch.
"If you do not you shall not live a minute," said the captain (another
pinch from Bramble). I now understood him, and I also went down on my
knees, and pretended to cry. "We can't take her out if this weather
lasts," said I, whimpering. "It's impossible."
"No, no! not if this weather lasts," said Bramble, "but as soon as it
changes we will do it."
"Very well, so long as you do it when you can, that is all I ask. Now,"
said he to the officer he had before addressed, "you'll have twenty
men--keep a sharp look-out--and don't lose a moment in getting under
weigh as soon as you can."
The captain then returned to the privateer with the rest of the men,
leaving the ship in charge of the prizemaster. The privateer was boomed
off; but whether she dropped her anchor near to us, or remained under
weigh, I could not tell. The men who had held the pistols to our heads
now went away with the others to plunder, according to the manners and
customs of all privateer's-men, of whatever nation they may happen to
be. Bramble and I walked aft.
"Pinned once more, by all that's blue! Well, it can't be helped--but
we're not in a French prison yet."
"Why did you go down on your knees to those fellows?" said I, rather
sulkily.
"Why, because I wished them to think we were chicken-hearted, and that
we should not be watched, and might have a chance--who knows?"
"Two against twenty are heavy odds," replied I.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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