risoners. Three
fell; the rest, in spite of the sentries, making a desperate rush, leapt
down the main hatchway.
Bill at that moment saw a young Frenchman, who had been struck,
struggling on the deck, and a voice crying out which he thought he
recognised.
He sprang towards the sailor, and lifted him up. He was not mistaken;
it was his friend Pierre.
"Are you badly hurt?" he asked in French.
"I'm afraid so, in my side," was the answer. "My poor mother, and
Jeannette, I shall never see them more."
"I hope that things are not so bad as that," responded Bill. "I will
try and get you below. Here!" and he called to one of the prisoners who
had remained on deck, and who, being very glad to get out of the way of
the shot, willingly assisted Bill in dragging the wounded man to the
companion-hatchway, down which the two together lifted him, and placed
him in the gun-room.
Fortunately the French surgeon had been ill in his berth, but had now
got up, prepared to attend to his professional duties. As yet, however,
none of the wounded prisoners had been brought aft, and Pierre, who had
been placed on the gun-room table, was the first man the surgeon took
under his care.
"He is not badly hurt, I hope," said Bill, rather anxiously.
"That's more than I can say, my young friend," answered the surgeon,
"but I will attend to him. I shall have patients enough on my hands
directly, I fear."
Bill felt that he ought not to remain a moment longer below, though he
greatly wished to learn how much Pierre had been injured. All he could
do, therefore, was to press his friend's hand, and spring up again on
deck.
The battery was still firing away at the prize, and every now and then a
crashing sound, as the shot struck her, showed that she was within range
of its guns; but she was rapidly distancing the boats, which could now
only be dimly seen astern.
The British crew raised a cheer when they found that they had to a
certainty secured their prize. Still the battery continued firing, but
not another shot struck her, and at length the dim outline of the
_Thisbe_ was seen ahead. Shortly afterwards the prize, rounding to
under the frigate's quarter, was received with hearty cheers by her
crew.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
THE POWDER MONKEY GETS HIS FIRST STEP UP THE RATLINES.
The British wounded, and the French prisoners captured in the prize,
were forthwith taken on board the _Thisbe_, when both ships made sail to
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