I grew homesick, and heart-sick, and there were many more in the same condition, and maybe, to themselves, with equal cause.
Just four months we had been there, when one morning an old-fashioned 20-gun corvette came wallowing in, and an hour later we knew that she had come to relieve us and we were to sail for home as soon as we were provisioned.

Work went with a will, for every man on board was sick of the place in spite of the easy living and good faring, and we were at sea within forty-eight hours.

The word between-decks, too, was that Bonaparte was about to conquer England, and we were hurrying back to take part in the great invasion.

The spirits and the talk ran to excess at times.

I neither took part in it nor resented it.