“The brig Polly of Southampton,” roared the bosun in reply, “run a-truant from Doggy-Trang.  And who be you?

“Ads bobs, sir,” he added in a breath to me, “there be a white flag at her fore topmast.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked.

But I had my answer from the other vessel.

“The frigate Gloucester, with Admiral Benbow aboard.”

And then Joe Punchard danced a pirouette (’twas a comical sight, he being so bandy), and shouted: 

“’Tis my captain, my captain, dash my bowlines and binnacle.”

And he caught the arm of one of the deserters, and danced him round the deck till he was dizzy.

Chapter 20:  The King’s Commission.

I have had many happy moments in my life, but none happier, I do think, than when Admiral Benbow clapped me on the shoulder and cried, in his big quarterdeck voice: 

“Why, my lad, we must have you a middy, and you shall serve the King.”

I was in the admiral’s own cabin on the Gloucester, whither I had been taken when my wound was dressed.  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.  They told me I should certainly get a good share of prize money for the recapture of the Polly of Southampton, and probably also for the other prize of Duguay-Trouin’s that was retaken.  The two frigates sent in chase of the privateer had failed to come up with her, but they had seized the prize lying off the point, which proved to be an Indiaman richly laden.