Twice Lost | Page 8

first step
I made, my foot slipped and I nearly fell. On the light falling on the
spot, I found that I was literally standing in blood. Twenty or more
human forms lay stretched out motionless, while others were gathered
round the masts or leaning against the guns, endeavouring to bind up
their wounds. One group stood aft in sullen silence awaiting our
coming, while the remainder of the crew were collected forward. By
their dress we saw that most of those aft were officers.
"Where is the captain of this ship?" asked Lieutenant Worthy.
One of them pointed to a body which lay between two of the guns, with
part of the chest and one of the arms carried away.
"Poor wretch!" observed the lieutenant. "He will not then have to
answer to us for his misdeeds. And are you the officer in command?"
The man to whom he spoke bowed his head, and, advancing, presented
his sword.
"Take his weapon," said the lieutenant, turning to one of the men; "and
disarm all the rest. I shall not receive the sword of a pirate, as if he
were a naval officer."
The whole of the party were quickly disarmed, and by the lieutenant's
orders our men then lashed their arms behind them. Peter Mudge with
his boat's crew had, in the meantime, made their way along the slippery
deck forward, when he treated the men collected there in the same
fashion. Mr Worthy then hailed the corvette, and begged that the
surgeons might be sent on board to attend to the wounded; and those
who appeared to be officers were lowered into the boat which brought
them, to be conveyed to the ship for safe keeping.
While the surgeons were hurriedly binding up the limbs of the
wounded men, we were engaged in collecting the dead bodies, that they
might be hove overboard. On counting them, we found that
five-and-twenty had been killed outright; and one by one, after the
surgeon had examined them, they were thrown into the water through

the ports.
"Here's another fellow, sir, who seemed just now as dead as a door-nail;
but as I was dragging him along the deck he began to sing out, and to
swear by all the saints that he was alive and kicking; and, faith, that
same he was, for I had a hard matter to keep hold of his legs. He's quiet
enough now, though; and for the life of me I can't tell whether he was
after speaking the truth or not."
This address was made by Paddy Doyle, an Irish top-man, to the
surgeon who was examining the bodies before they were hove
overboard. The surgeon, thus appealed to, went to the man. "He seems
to be unhurt, and is still breathing," he remarked. "By his dress he
appears to be an officer. Throw some water in his face; and keep a
watch over him, Doyle, when he comes to, as I have no doubt that he
soon will. I must look after the other wretches."
The dead having been disposed of, and the unwounded prisoners placed
under a guard, the wounded were carried into the large and handsome
cabin--which, however, could not afford accommodation for all of them;
the rest were therefore placed, with such spare bedding as could be
found, on the upper slave-deck.
By the time these arrangements were made, it was nearly daylight. A
prize crew of twenty men was left on board the Sea-Hawk, with the
assistant-surgeon to look after the wounded, the second lieutenant
coming on board to take command of them. I was thankful to be
ordered to return to the corvette, for I was heartily sick of the scene I
had witnessed.
Just as I was going over the side, I heard Paddy Doyle sing out,--"Arrah!
my dead man's come to life again! Bear a hand, and help me to haul
him in;" and looking back, I saw that the Irishman's prisoner had
jumped up, and was endeavouring to spring through a port--having
watched the moment that Paddy's back was turned on him. Paddy had
seized one of his legs, and was tugging away with might and main;
while the Spaniard, with his other foot on the port-sill, had nearly
effected his purpose, notwithstanding the Irishman's desperate efforts to

prevent his escape. "Arrah! now he's done it!" exclaimed Doyle,
holding up the Spaniard's shoe and a piece of his trousers which had
come away in his hand.
The man, who was evidently a good swimmer, and had been trusting to
this for escape, was striking out at a rapid rate for the shore.
"Give way after him!" cried Lieutenant Worthy to Mudge, who was in
the boat on the opposite side to that from which the pirate had escaped.
The