Chapter 14 - Page 2

foreign service, clung to the chains of the as yet imperfectly
disciplined man-of-war. As the two men who had been lowered in the boat
hooked her, when afloat, along to the gangway, Israel dropped like a
comet into the stern-sheets, stumbled forward, and seized an oar. In a
moment more, all the oarsmen were in their places, and with a few
strokes the boat lay alongside the cutter.

"Take which of them you please," said the lieutenant in command,
addressing the officer in the revenue-cutter, and motioning with his
hand to his boat's crew, as if they were a parcel of carcasses of
mutton, of which the first pick was offered to some customer. "Quick and
choose. Sit down, men"--to the sailors. "Oh, you are in a great hurry to
get rid of the king's service, ain't you? Brave chaps indeed!--Have you
chosen your man?"

All this while the ten faces of the anxious oarsmen looked with mute
longings and appealings towards the officer of the cutter; every face
turned at the same angle, as if managed by one machine. And so they
were. One motive.

"I take the freckled chap with the yellow hair--him," pointing to
Israel.

Nine of the upturned faces fell in sullen despair, and ere Israel could
spring to his feet, he felt a violent thrust in his rear from the toes
of one of the disappointed behind him.

"Jump, dobbin!" cried the officer of the boat.

But Israel was already on board. Another moment, and the boat and cutter
parted. Ere long, night fell, and the man-of-war and her consorts were
out of sight.

The revenue vessel resumed her course towards the nighest port, worked
by but four men: the captain, Israel, and two officers. The cabin-boy
was kept at the helm. As the only foremast man, Israel was put to it
pretty hard. Where there is but one man to three masters, woe betide
that lonely slave. Besides, it was of itself severe work enough to
manage the vessel thus short of hands. But to make matters still worse,
the captain and his officers were ugly-tempered fellows. The one kicked,
and the others cuffed Israel. Whereupon, not sugared with his recent
experiences, and maddened by his present hap, Israel seeing himself
alone at sea, with only three men, instead of a thousand, to contend
against, plucked up a heart, knocked the captain into the lee scuppers,
and in his fury was about tumbling the first-officer, a small wash of a
fellow, plump overboard, when the captain, jumping to his feet, seized
him by his long yellow hair, vowing he would slaughter him. Meanwhile
the cutter flew foaming through the channel, as if in demoniac glee at
this uproar on her imperilled deck. While the consternation was at its
height, a dark body