"No you don't, Johnny!" exclaimed the mate, as one of the men sprang forward to seize him. "If you think that one of you is as good as five Yankee sailors, now is your chance to try it on. It'll take more'n one of you to put the bracelets on me;" and, as he spoke, he planted another of his tremendous blows in the face of the advancing rebel, which lifted him completely off his feet. But before he had time to repeat it, he was overpowered by half a dozen rebels, who had run to the assistance of their comrade. After a hard struggle, he was secured, and his hands were bound behind his back.
"Now, you fellows," said the colonel, addressing himself to the men in the boat, "get back to your vessel; tell the captain how matters stand, and also that he may come ashore and bury his dead as soon as he chooses."
"Tell the first division," said the mate, "that the next time they go into action they must give one shot for Jack Waters. If you fellers don't pay for this," he continued, turning to the rebels, "then blast my to'-gallant top-lights."
"Tell the captain," chimed in Frank, "that he had better not trust these men again, for they are not sufficiently civilized to know what a flag of truce is."
"You are very complimentary, young man, to say the least," said a rebel, who was standing near the colonel.
"I am telling the plain truth," answered Frank, "and you will find that your barbarous mode of warfare will never succeed; and that the crew of that vessel will never allow the mean action of which you have been guilty to pass unnoticed."
"Douse my top-lights but that's the truth," said the mate, making an effort with his confined hands to salute his officer.
"See that these prisoners are well secured," said the colonel, "and be sure and take special care of that youngster, for if you allow him the least chance, he'll escape," and the colonel turned on his heel and walked away.
In obedience to these instructions, Frank and the mate were delivered into the charge of a sergeant, who at once conducted them toward the place where the prisoners which had been taken during the fight were confined under guard. As they passed along through the rebels, they were insulted at every step, and finally a man drew his ramrod out of his gun, and seizing Frank by the collar, proceeded to give him a severe thrashing. Frank immediately appealed to the sergeant, who, instead of offering to defend him, stood at a little distance, watching the operation, as if not at all concerned. The mate was fairly beside himself with rage, and struggled desperately to free his hands, all the while venting his anger by "dousing" his "top-lights" and "shivering" his own "timbers." The rebel continued his punishment amid the cheers of his companions, and at every stroke of his ramrod he exclaimed: "Shot the best blood-hound in Louisiana, did ye! Stick a bayonet into young Davis, won't ye!" until Frank, smarting with the pain, determined to defend himself.