And yet, because I chanced to be among the crew, I was to be hung by the neck! I knew well enough, from what I had heard of French justice, that any excuses would be but breath wasted.

Indeed, as one of the few English of the party, I should probably be spared even the farce of a trial.

My only hope was that Captain Cochin, who had not been unkind to me so far, would speak a word in my favour.
We were marched to a dismal, white-washed guard-house on the edge of the town, and were there locked up by half-dozens till it suited the admiral's convenience to consider our case, and that was not till next day.

The cell in which I and five of my shipmates were confined was a small, underground cellar, reeking with damp and foul smells, and lit only by a narrow grating in the ceiling, through which all night the rain poured steadily, forming a huge puddle in the middle of the earth floor.
There was one narrow bench on which we sat huddled together, to eat our scanty portion of black bread, and pass the dismal night as best we could.

For my part, that night reconciled me to the prospect of a French gallows as much as anything.
In the morning we were ordered to march once more, and were brought into the presence of some official who acted as judge to try cases of misdemeanour on the high seas.