p."

"Belay there!" shouted the bosun.

"Pipe away, Runnles, and we'll love you, my hearty."

Runnles struck up again, but he had not gone far (it was to the
line, "To meet the gallant Russell in combat on the deep") when the
fluting suddenly ceased, and we heard a cry that was certainly a
squeal. Vetch had got out of bed in the dark and, snatching the
flute from Runnles' hand, caught him by the throat. I sprang up
from Runnles' side, but the bosun from the bed beyond was before
me.

"Avast, you lubber!" he cries, flinging himself on Vetch; "I
thought we should grapple one day: now I'll bring you up by the
head, you swine."

And with that he took Vetch with the left hand, and belabored him
with the right until the poor wretch fairly howled for mercy. Then
he threw him on to his bed (with some damage, I fear, to Dilly, who
shared it), and bade Runnles play up: but the little man was so
much upset at the turn affairs had taken that he declared his lips
were too dry to blow a note, and indeed it was several days before
he could be prevailed on to flute again.

Chapter 15: The Bass Viol.

Where one leads, others are sure to follow. It was wonderful how
many of the prisoners discovered a talent for music after Punchard
and Runnles had thus led the way. Our jailers encouraged this
pastime; it was not merely harmless in itself, but it had a
quietening effect on the temper of the men, and the squabbles and
brawls among them notably diminished. One of the Frenchmen
unearthed an old fiddle, and though one of its strings was wanting,
a man named Ben Tolliday contrived to scrape very passable melody
out of it. Old John Dilly announced that he had played the cornet
in his youth, and before very long an instrument was found for him,
and after a few days' practice (during which we had to suffer a
variety of discordant and ear-splitting noises) he recovered
something of his former skill. An old drum with a very loose
membrane was found in the lumber room of the keep, and this the
bosun appropriated, though being quite destitute of a sense of
rhythm he made but an indifferent performer. Some of the men
fashioned original instruments for themselves, one of these, a
mouth organ, being a real triumph of ingenuity.

I, alas, had no singing voice, and was totally ignorant of music;
but Joe kindly informed me that any fool could play the bones, and
made two pairs of castanets for me out of beef bones supplied by
the soldier