was empty save for the killed. He pushed up the hatchway in terror.
As he gained the upper deck he saw at once what had happened, for a big blue banner was flapping at the peak, and a few marines in red coats were watching the last gang of his comrades into a jolly boat alongside. They had been stripped already. Their silks and laces were dangling from their captors' pockets. A little lieutenant in a long red coat was superintending the embarkation, tapping his breeches with a cane to mark the number of them. Joe drew his hanger from its sheath.
"Taken!" he screamed, "taken!" and he rushed at the lieutenant to cut him down.
A burly mariner in an apron bounded upon him from behind. Joe felt a blow upon the sconce, and collapsed upon the deck like a sack of flour.
"One hundred and three," counted the lieutenant; "that was a good crack you gave him. Shove him down among the others."
Late in the afternoon Joe woke from his fever. He was lying chained hand and foot in a dark prison lit only by a battle lamp. One side of him was pressed against the bulkhead of the prison;
