My comrades were too thankful to find themselves alive, with food to eat and dry clothes to put on, to concern themselves as to the ship's destination.

But I, who yearned to know and share the fate of those I loved, groaned as I saw the coast-line drop astern, and realised that, after all, I was as far from home as ever.
As soon as we were revived and fed--and I am bound to confess we were humanely treated in that respect--a ship's officer came forward and questioned us.
I, as brother to the lieutenant, was put forward to answer; and I told him all, not omitting our contraband cargo, or the manner of my own joining the _Kestrel_.
"Well, lads," said the officer, "you've paid for your bit of fun.

If the _Diana_ had had her full complement of men, you might have been whistling in the breakers still.

Now you belong to his Majesty, and your names are entered on the books of his ship.

It's more than you deserve, but that can't be helped.