"
"Heave to, Brown. Oh! I wish I had arms and a crew!"
"Captain," interposed the tall, handsome gunner, "I--I know their skill
and metal. If you had a gun--a single gun of proper calibre, I could
sink her. I am called the best shot in the English navy."
"We have only a six pounder," answered the captain, ruefully, pointing
to their only gun. It was but an inferior piece, and when the gunner
examined it, he turned to his four anxious companions and said:
"It would be suicide."
Then the five sailors stood near the main gangway with arms folded,
heads erect, and resigned like brave men to their fate. The frigate came
bearing down upon them like a great mountain, and soon lay alongside.
The captain and a score of marines all armed with muskets, came aboard.
"So ho!" cried the captain, "you have my live runaways snug enough.
Seize them and carry them aboard, lieutenant."
A young officer with ten men now seized the five deserters, handcuffed
them and led them to their ship which lay alongside. As they went over
the rail, the brutal captain said something about swinging at the yard
arm. Turning to Parson, he said:
"Captain, muster your crew and have them pass before me."
Much as the captain disliked to do so, he was in the power of the brutal
Englishman and forced to do his bidding. As the sailors passed slowly
before him, the Briton eyed each carefully.
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