he offer; and, as Doull told
the boatswain, he looked every inch a midshipman.

Very little had been done when Ronald returned to the prize towards
getting her into order; and as he looked fore and aft along the decks,
it seemed scarcely possible that she could ever be put in a condition at
sea, to make sail, so as to reach a British port in safety. Some of her
crew were already mustered on deck, but others were keeping below. He
was accordingly directed to take a party of men round the decks to send
them up. As he passed it, he looked into the midshipman's berth, where
a boy, whose life he had probably been the means of preserving at the
time of boarding, still lay.

The French midshipman recognised him immediately. "Ah! come in, my
friend!" he exclaimed, in broken English: "I want to recompense you for
what you did for me: but--they told me that you were a ship's boy, and
now I see that you are of the same rank as myself."

"I was a ship's boy when I found you under the masts, but now I am a
midshipman," answered Ronald. "But tell me your name--I shall be glad
to help you in any way I can."

"My name--ah--they call me Alfonse Gerardin," answered the French
midshipman. "I am obliged to you for your kindness. A prisoner is
little able to requite it. Perhaps I may some day--as I should wish to
do."

"I have done nothing to deserve even thanks," said Ronald. "But I must
not stay. I will come and see you again as soon as I can."

Mr Strickland, the first lieutenant of the "Thisbe," being badly
wounded, Mr Calder, the second, was directed to take charge of the
prize.

Robert Rawson, an old master's mate, was ordered to go as his second in
command, with Glover and Morton as midshipmen, and a master's assistant
called Twigg.

Ronald wished to have remained to look after his father; but Rolf would
not hear of it.

"You'll be better in another ship, away from me, boy," he remarked.
"The doctor and Bobby Doull will look after me. I shall return to my
duty in a few days--never fear!"

The peculiar talents of the prize-master of the "Concorde," honest Tom
Calder, were now brought into full play. Head and hand were busily
employed from morning till night, and neither grew weary. Where the
hardest work was to be done, there Tom's cheery voice was heard and his
helping hand was to be found, and before the two, difficulties, at first
deemed insurmountable, vanished like magic.

Tom had naturally a strong fe