We could no
longer doubt that these were English ships, and we were alive with
excitement when we saw two of them part from the others and go in
chase of the privateer. Would they catch her? We forgot our fatigue
and wounds, so fascinated were we in watching the pursuit, and the
other two vessels were within hailing distance of us almost before
we were aware. English colors were now flying at our masthead, and
a voice through a speaking trumpet called to know who we were.
"The brig Polly of Southampton," roared the bosun in reply, "run
a-truant from Doggy-Trang. And who be you?
"Ads bobs, sir," he added in a breath to me, "there be a white flag
at her fore topmast."
"What's that mean?" I asked.
But I had my answer from the other vessel.
"The frigate Gloucester, with Admiral Benbow aboard."
And then Joe Punchard danced a pirouette ('twas a comical sight, he
being so bandy), and shouted:
"'Tis my captain, my captain, dash my bowlines and binnacle."
And he caught the arm of one of the deserters, and danced him round
the deck till he was dizzy.
Chapter 20: The King's Commission.
I have had many happy moments in my life, but none happier, I do
think, than when Admiral Benbow clapped me on the shoulder and
cried, in his big quarterdeck voice:
"Why, my lad, we must have you a middy, and you shall serve the
King."
I was in the admiral's own cabin on the Gloucester, whither I had
been taken when my wound was dressed.
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