Bramble, to please him, replied that it was silk and other goods to the value of thirty thousand pounds English.

“How many men?”

“Forty-five men.”

The French captain rubbed his hands with ecstasy, as well he might.  Just at this moment the English captain came upon deck, followed by two of the privateer’s men, one of whom had taken possession of his laced cap, and the other of his silk sash.  He brought his sword in his hand, and presented it to the captain of the privateer, saying, “It is no disgrace for one brave man to deliver up his sword to another.”

“Que dit il?” said the captain of the privateer to the young man who interpreted.  The young man translated this fine speech, upon which the French captain called the English one by a very contemptuous title, and turned away.  The privateer’s men now made their appearance from below, having helped themselves to everything they could find; the orders were then given for the prisoners to be brought upon deck; they were driven up, many of them bleeding from wounds received in attempts to rescue their personal property, and were handed over to the lugger.  A prize-master with twenty men was put on board; the lugger was hauled off, the only Englishmen allowed to remain in the captured vessel being Bramble and myself.  As soon as the vessels were clear they made sail, running about two points free for the French coast.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

     We have great Hopes of not seeing the Inside of a French Prison,
     but we are disappointed.

“Well, Tom, this is a bad job,” said Bramble to me, taking his seat upon the hencoop aft.  “By to-morrow noon, unless we fall in with a cruiser—­and I see little chance of that—­we shall be locked up in a French prison; ay, and Heaven knows how long we may stay there!  What’s to become of poor little Bessy?  I’m sure I don’t know.  I must contrive to write over to lawyer Wilson, and put him in charge of everything.  But I’m sorry for you, my poor lad; it’s hard for you to be locked up, perhaps for years, when you might have been making money for yourself.”

“Well, it can’t be helped, father; we must make the best of it,” replied I, with a deep sigh, for I was anything but happy at the prospect.

“If it had not been for that swaggering coward this might not have happened,” replied Bramble.  “It’s somewhat my own fault.  I was so anxious to frighten him about nothing that at last I run us into real danger, and I might have known that he never would have fought, although I certainly had no idea of falling in with a privateer.  Well, Tom, we must not lose a chance.”

[Illustration:  BRAMBLE AND JACK CARRIED INTO A FRENCH PORT.—­Marryat, Vol X. p. 331.]

“How do you mean?”

“I mean that if there is any possibility of getting away, I shall; and you, of course, will not stay behind.  I don’t know where they are going to, but you see, Tom, our only chance of getting off is while we are on the coast; if once we are marched into the interior, why, then it will be almost hopeless.  What we must try for is to get away at the port where we land.  We shall see.”