He then went among the passengers, conversed with them, asked each one his name and country, and took other means to prevent deception.

When he came to Strictland, and asked his name, the reply was, "Jean Fourchette," in a bold tone.
"Are you a Frenchman ?" asked the officer.
"Yes, SIR," was Strictland's reply, in a most anti-Gallican accent.
The officer stared at him for a moment, but without asking more questions passed on to others.
I felt somewhat apprehensive that the British ship was short-manned, and that the officer might cast a longing look on me, and consider me worthy of serving his "most gracious majesty"; in which case I intended to fall back on my American protection, which I regarded as my richest treasure, and insist upon going to an English prison rather than sling my hammock in a man-of-war.

But no questions were asked, as I was looked upon as one of the crew, which, without counting Strictland, consisted of only three individuals; and the idea of reducing that small number by impressment was not entertained.
The officer, before he left the schooner, with great glee communicated to our passengers an important piece of intelligence, which was more gratifying to British than to French ears.

A great and decisive battle had been fought at Salamanca, in Spain, between the combined armies under Wellington and the French army under Marmont.

It resulted in the signal defeat of the French marshal, who was severely wounded.