sprang to the gangway and looked over. Three men were
hoisted on board; one especially was terribly injured--it was Jonas
Webb. The last who appeared was Mr Falconer.

"I am only wounded in the shoulder, though I am faint from loss of
blood," he said, in a feeble voice. He spoke so that Kitty might hear
him. "We should have got the prize with more help."

Kitty ran to his side to assist him along the deck, not caring what Mrs
Podgers or anybody else might say to her. The exertion, however, was
too much for him; and if Dick and another man had not held him up, he
would have fallen, for Kitty's slight frame could scarcely have
supported him. He was taken to his cabin, and after the doctor had
attended to the other men he allowed him to examine his wound.

I have not before mentioned our doctor. The men used to say he was only
fit for making bread pills, and they, poor fellows, had better means of
forming an opinion of his skill than I had. After his visit, Mr
Falconer would not let him dress his wound, though he did manage to get
out the bullet. It was dressed, however, and Kitty used to say that I
was the doctor. I know that I went every day into the cabin with her
and Dick, and that we used to put lotions and plaster on his poor
shoulder. Mrs Podgers declared that it was very indelicate in her to
do so, but Kitty replied that if women were on board ship, it was their
duty to attend to the wounded.

We visited the other men who were hurt, especially poor Jonas Webb; but
Kitty confessed that his injuries were beyond her skill--indeed, it
seemed wonderful that, mangled as he was, he should continue to live on.

The miscarriage of the expedition was owing also to him. Mr Falconer
had gallantly carried the prize, got the Spaniards under hatches, and
taken her in tow, when, on passing the batteries, Webb's pistol went
off. This drew the attention of the garrison to the boat, and they
immediately opened a hot fire. Webb was the first struck, and soon
afterwards several of the other men were hit. Mr Falconer, who had
remained on deck, on this let himself down into the boat to assist in
pulling, and, in spite of the hot fire, would have continued doing so,
had not the Spaniards broken loose, and, getting hold of some muskets on
board, began firing at the boat. Mr Falconer, on being himself
wounded, cut the painter, and the boat escaped without further injury.

Dick was very angry with the other officers, and