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obviously had brothers, and here they were now.
    They went at once to George. ‘There you are, my fine fellow,’ said the Lieutenant, with just a hint of mockery. ‘Was that you we saw in the rigging?’
    George seemed unruffled by their attention, until they made it plain they intended to take him off immediately. Then fear crept into his voice.
    â€˜I have documents, sir,’ he cried, trying to sound important. ‘I am apprentice to the Captain.’
    The Lieutenant looked incredulous, and his cronies all laughed. ‘I’ve heard that a few times, I can tell you,’ he said. George raised himself from his bed, revealing his bandaged left arm, and plucked a key from a chain around his neck. With his good right hand he pulled aheavy chest from under his bunk, unlocked it, fetched out a plain envelope and handed it over.
    The Lieutenant cast a brief eye over it, and tossed it back on the bed. ‘You’re obviously not the ragamuffin we saw in the rigging. Any idea where he might be?’
    I held my breath and somehow I knew what would happen next. George didn’t say anything. He just glanced over to the locker, lowered his head slightly and raised his eyebrows. I cursed myself for finding such a poor hiding place, but I was still white with anger that George had so readily betrayed me. Two of the men strolled leisurely over. The door creaked open and I froze as the light fell on me, feeling entirely naked and foolish.
    â€˜Come here, you,’ said the Lieutenant. ‘Was that you climbing the mast?’ I stared at him, too furious to speak. He placed a hand on my arm and pulled me out of the cupboard. ‘Up you go.’
    Out on the deck, our crew were still standing before the rest of the party from the pressing tender – three other men and another officer. Also on board were three marines. I recognised them at once in their bright red coats. Silas was lying on the deck, with one of the gang standing over him. At first I wondered if he were dead, but then I saw he was breathing hard and his eyes were open, darting to and fro. He looked very, very angry.
    â€˜Just the two, I think, Mr Collinge,’ said theLieutenant. Then he went to talk to Captain Rushford.
    The other officer came over to me and said, ‘Fetch your belongings, lad. If you can write, you’ve got ten minutes to pen a letter to your mother telling her what’s happened.’ Then he walked over to Silas, and prodded him with his polished black boot. ‘You go and fetch your belongings too, and if there’s any more trouble out of you we’ll club you unconscious.’
    I had only a small bag of possessions – clothes, a few keepsakes from home – and they were quickly gathered. I was so flummoxed by this turn of events I could think of nothing to say to my parents other than the plain facts of what had happened.
    I passed George Mansell and whispered, ‘You weasel.’ He didn’t look the least bit ashamed. I was so vexed I grabbed his injured arm and twisted it, and he yelped in agony. Then, on deck, Silas and I were each presented with a document from Captain Rushford, guaranteeing our pay up until this day. I wondered bitterly why I felt grateful.
    I gave the Captain my letter and he wished me well. It was a formal farewell and I supposed he had said goodbye to several ship’s boys in these circumstances. Just before we left, the Lieutenant spoke to us both again.
    â€˜If you volunteer at this point, then you will be entitled to a five pound bounty. The Royal Navy makes this offer to all men who come aboard, regardless of whetherthey have been pressed or volunteered.’
    This was a significant sum – maybe nine months’ wages aboard the
Franklyn
. But I was so angry at being seized, I refused it. Silas did too, and looked at me with a fierce pride.
    â€˜Very well,’ said the Lieutenant, and smiled in a way that suggested he cared not a