"I want no wine," said I, "but I stand in great need of the assistance of some one to dress my wounds."
The surgeon was therefore summoned, and he applied some linen dipped in brandy. Notwithstanding the number of good beds they had brought from my house, I had great difficulty in obtaining a very poor one to lie down upon, and a coarse sheet and coverlet to throw over me. I was placed between decks, with the bed resting on some cordage. This was Saturday night, the 8th October, 1708.
Our noble Ensign, who ought to have been our protector from the enemy, was still on board as drunk as a hog. He was in excellent spirits, on the best of terms with the Captain and crew, to whom he was infinitely obliged for having indulged him in his vicious propensity. The next day was Sunday; he was sent ashore early in the morning, without having received the least injury or having been deprived of any thing whatever. My two sons and the servants were sent away at the same time, and I alone was detained. As soon as the boat was taken on board after landing them, the Captain gave orders to raise the anchor and make sail.
My wife did not sit down quietly to bemoan and lament over her misfortunes, as many would have done in her situation, but was in action at once to endeavor to find a remedy. She went, early in the morning to the place where the Papists said mass, to see the priest, whom she hoped to persuade to follow the vessel, and use his influence to obtain my discharge. He positively refused. She dwelt upon the many obligations under which I had laid his people from time to time, and reminded him of those whom I had saved from the gallows; but it was all in vain. Finding persuasion useless, she changed her tone and had recourse to threats; she pointed
