e and despondent to say much; in fact, as
Don sat upon the deck and looked at those who surrounded him, they all
looked like so many wounded men in hospital, or prisoners of war, in
place of being Englishmen--whose duty henceforth was to be the defence
of their country.

"Seems rum, don't it?" said Jem in a whisper. "Makes a man feel wild to
be laid hold on like this."

"It's cruel! It's outrageous!" cried Don, angrily.

"But here we are, and--what's that there noise?" said Jem, as a good
deal of shouting and trampling was heard on deck. Then there was a
series of thumps and more trampling and loud orders.

"Are they bringing some more poor wretches on board, Jem?"

"Dunno. Don't think so. Say, Mas' Don, I often heared tell of the
press-gang, and men being took; but I didn't know it was so bad as
this."

"Wait till morning, Jem, and I hope we shall get justice done to us."

"Then they'll have to do it sharp, for it's morning now, though it's so
dark down here, and I thought we were moving; can't you feel?"

Jem was quite right; the sloop was under weigh. Morning had broken some
time; and at noon that day, the hope of being set at liberty was growing
extremely small, for the ship was in full sail, and going due west.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

JEM IS HUNGRY.

The first time the pressed men were mustered Don was well prepared.

"You leave it to me, Jem," he whispered. "I'll wait till our turn
comes, and then I shall speak out to the officer and tell him how we've
been treated."

"You'd better make haste, then, Mas' Don, for if the thing keeps on
moving like this, I sha'n't be able to stand and hear what you have to
say."

For a good breeze was blowing from the south coast, sufficient to make
the waves curl over, and the sloop behave in rather a lively way; the
more so that she had a good deal of canvas spread, and heeled over and
dipped her nose sufficiently to admit a great wave from time to time to
well splash the forward part of the deck.

Don made no reply, for he felt white, but he attributed it to the mental
excitement from which he suffered.

There were thirty pressed men on deck, for the most part old sailors
from the mercantile marine, and these men were drafted off into various
watches, the trouble to the officers being that of arranging the fate of
the landsmen, who looked wretched in the extreme.

"'Pon my word, Jones," said a smart-looking, middle-aged man in uniform,
whom Don took t