The doctor and myself, more discreet, sat quietly in the bow of the
cutter; and for my own part, though I did not repent what I had done,
my reflections were far from being enviable.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
RECEPTION FROM THE FRENCHMAN
IN a few moments, we were paraded in the frigate's gangway; the first
lieutenant - an elderly yellow-faced officer, in an ill-cut coat and
tarnished gold lace - coming up, and frowning upon us.
This gentleman's head was a mere bald spot; his legs, sticks; in
short, his whole physical vigour seemed exhausted in the production
of one enormous moustache. Old Gamboge, as he was forthwith
christened, now received a paper from the consul; and, opening it,
proceeded to compare the goods delivered with the invoice.
After being thoroughly counted, a meek little midshipman was called,
and we were soon after given in custody to half-a-dozen
sailor-soldiers - fellows with tarpaulins and muskets. Preceded by a
pompous functionary (whom we took for one of the ship's corporals,
from his ratan and the gold lace on his sleeve), we were now escorted
down the ladders to the berth-deck.
Here we were politely handcuffed, all round; the man with the bamboo
evincing the utmost solicitude in giving us a good fit from a large
basket of the articles of assorted sizes.
Taken by surprise at such an uncivil reception, a few of the party
demurred; but all coyness was, at last, overcome; and finally our
feet were inserted into heavy anklets of iron, running along a great
bar bolted down to the deck. After this, we considered ourselves
permanently established in our new quarters.
"The deuce take their old iron!" exclaimed the doctor; "if I'd known
this, I'd stayed behind."
"Ha, ha!" cried Flash Jack, "you're in for it, Doctor Long Ghost."
"My hands and feet are, any way," was the reply.
They placed a sentry over us; a great lubber of a fellow, who marched
up and down with a dilapidated old cutlass of most extraordinary
dimensions. From its length, we had some idea that it was expressly
intended to keep a crowd in order - reaching over the heads of
half-a-dozen, say, so as to get a cut at somebody behind.
"Mercy!" ejaculated the doctor with a shudder, "what a sensation it
must be to be killed by such a tool."
We fasted till night, when one of the boys came along with a couple of
"kids" containing a thin, saffron-coloured fluid, with oily particles
floating on top. The young wag told us this was soup: it turned out
to be nothing more than oleaginous warm water. Such as it was,
nevertheless, we were fain to make a meal of it, our sentry being
attentive enough to undo our bracelets.
