Mr. Benbow and the captain
were both there, and to them I had to tell my story, from the time
of my setting forth from Shrewsbury to the late fight with
Duguay-Trouin. Some little concernments of my own (the fight with
Topper in the barn, and my rescue of Mistress Lucy on the highroad)
I kept to myself, but the rest of my adventures I related as I have
set them down here, though, to be sure, more shortly. The officers
found much entertainment in my narrative, and in particular they
were mightily tickled at the notion of escaped prisoners capturing
themselves. The admiral was good enough to speak in high praise of
my doings (far beyond my deserts), and then he told me that though
he could not himself make a midshipman without a warrant from a
higher power, he would use his interest in my behoof, and had no
doubt that all would fall out as I most ardently desired.
I had to wear my leg in a sling for a week or more, but then I got
about as nimbly as ever. In all but name I was a junior midshipman,
for the admiral said I must learn betimes the duties of the rank
which was to be mine as soon as he could compass it. And I set
about doing so with zest, for I was now turned eighteen, and there
were boys in my mess four years younger who were veterans in
seamanship and ship drill compared with me.
My messmates welcomed me with much kindness; while I was laid up of
my wound they had heard of my adventures from Joe Punchard, who was
a prime favorite aboard; and they all declared they wished they had
had my luck, though they agreed with me when I reminded them that a
nine months' imprisonment was after all a long price to pay.
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