I've my papers to show, I'm bonded specksioneer to the _Urania_ whaler, Donkin captain, North Shields port.' As a protected whaler, the press-gang had, by the 17th section of Act 26 Geo.III.no legal right to seize him, unless he had failed to return to his ship by the 10th March following the date of his bond.

But of what use were the papers he hastily dragged out of his breast; of what use were laws in those days of slow intercourse with such as were powerful enough to protect, and in the time of popular panic against a French invasion?
'D--n your protection,' cried the leader of the press-gang; 'come and serve his Majesty, that's better than catching whales.' 'Is it though ?' said the specksioneer, with a motion of his hand, which the swift-eyed sailor opposed to him saw and interpreted rightly.
'Thou wilt, wilt thou?
Close with him, Jack; and ware the cutlass.' In a minute his cutlass was forced from him, and it became a hand-to-hand struggle, of which, from the difference in numbers, it was not difficult to foretell the result.

Yet Kinraid made desperate efforts to free himself; he wasted no breath in words, but fought, as the men said, 'like a very devil.' Hepburn heard loud pants of breath, great thuds, the dull struggle of limbs on the sand, the growling curses of those who thought to have managed their affair more easily; the sudden cry of some one wounded, not Kinraid he knew, Kinraid would have borne any pain in silence at such a moment; another wrestling, swearing, infuriated strife, and then a strange silence.

Hepburn sickened at the heart; was then his rival dead?
had he left this bright world?
lost his life--his love?
For an instant Hepburn felt guilty of his death; he said to himself he had never wished him dead, and yet in the struggle he had kept aloof, and now it might be too late for ever.
Philip could not bear the suspense; he looked stealthily round the corner of the rock behind which he had been hidden, and saw that they had overpowered Kinraid, and, too exhausted to speak, were binding him hand and foot to carry him to their boat.
Kinraid lay as still as any hedgehog: he rolled when they pushed him; he suffered himself to be dragged without any resistance, any motion; the strong colour brought into his face while fighting was gone now, his countenance was livid pale; his lips were tightly held together, as if it cost him more effort to be passive, wooden, and stiff in their hands than it had done to fight and struggle with all his might.

His eyes seemed the only part about him that showed cognizance of what was going on.