"The `Brilliant,' Captain Everard," was the answer; "he's a good captain, and you may bless your stars that you have been taken for his ship." Harry's heart sank when he heard this. He would at once be recognised by the captain. What account could he give of himself? The boats were in waiting in the harbour. The men hurried down to them immediately. Some resisting were dragged along. A cuff on the head, or a blow with the butt end of a pistol, generally silenced those who cried out in the hopes of being rescued. Harry and Jacob walked along quietly. Neither were disposed to struggle. As soon as the prisoners were got into the boats they shoved off. In a quarter of an hour afterwards Harry found himself for the first time in his life on board a man-of-war. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. THE HERO'S FIRST TRIP TO SEA.--THE FATE OF THE "BRILLIANT." Harry and the other pressed men stood for some time on the deck of the frigate, awaiting the appearance of the commanding officer. Harry dreaded his coming, believing that Captain Everard would immediately recognise him. At length an officer appeared from below, accompanied by the master-at-arms, who held a ship's lantern in his hand. The officer commenced his inspection at the other end of the line. The light not falling on him, Harry could not see his features, but his figure was like that of the captain. "I must brave it out," he thought. "What shall I call myself? It must be a name I can recollect. Andrew Brown will, do as well as any other." Jacob was standing at a little distance from him. He had just time to step round and whisper, "I shall take the name of Andrew Brown," before the officer approached. He was greatly relieved on finding it was not the captain. Jacob Tuttle gave his real name. He entered himself as Andrew Brown. As soon as the inspection was over, the men were ordered down below, being told that they would be entered more regularly the next morning. They were told that they might lie down between the guns on the main deck, sentries being placed over them as if they were prisoners. Harry was only too thankful to find a quiet spot where he might stretch his weary limbs and finish his slumbers, which had been so rudely broken during the first part of the night. He was too sleepy even to think. He dreamed that the fray was renewed, for the most strange, wild, and unearthly sounds assailed his ears: shrill whistles, hoarse bawlings, fierce oaths, the stamping of feet and rattling of ropes, and shouts of all sorts, creating the wildest uproar he had ever heard. "Yes, he's alive, only drunk, maybe," said a gruff voice in his ear. "No, he's not drunk, only worn out pretty well, as you or I would be if we had not had a sleep for three or four nights. He's young, you see."