Chapter Nineteen.

Chapter Nineteen.The next morning, when we arrived at Funchal, we found that our orders were for the West Indies: we stayed one day to take in wine and then hove up the anchor, and went on to our destination. We soon got into the trades, and run them fast down till we arrived at Carlisle Bay, Barbadoes, where we found the admiral and delivered our despatches. We were ordered to water and complete as soon as possible, as we were to be sent on a cruise.Tommy Dott, my quondam ally, was in disgrace. He had several times during the cruise proposed that I should join him in several plots of mischief, but I refused, as I did not consider them quite safe.“You are not the keen fellow I thought you were,” said he; “you are up to nothing now; there’s no fun in you, as there used to be.”He was mistaken; there was fun in me, but there was also prudence, and from what I had latterly seen of Tommy Dott, I did not think he was to be trusted.The day after we anchored at Carlisle Bay, Tommy came to me and said, “Old Culpepper serves out plums and suet this afternoon; I heard him tell steward. Now, I think we may manage to get some—I never saw better plums on board of a ship.”“Well,” said I, “I like raisins as well as you do, Tommy—but what is your plan?”“Why, I’ve got my squirt: and old Culpepper never lights more than one of his purser’s dips (small candles) in the steward’s room. I’ll get down in the cockpit in the dark, and squirt at the candle—the water will put it out, and he’ll send the steward for another light, and then I’ll try and get some.”It was not a bad plan, but still I refused to join in it, as it was only the work of one person, and not two. I pointed that out to him and he agreed with me, saying that he would do it himself.When Mr Culpepper went down into the steward’s room, Tommy reconnoitred, and then came into the berth and filled his squirt.Although I would not join him, I thought I might as well see what was going on and therefore descended the cockpit ladder soon after Tommy, keeping out of the way in the foremost part of the cockpit, where it was quite dark.Tommy directed his squirt very dexterously, hit the lighted wick of the solitary candle, which fizzed, sputtered, and finally gave up the ghost.“Bless me!” said Mr Culpepper, “what can that be?”“A leak from the seams above I suppose,” said the steward:“I will go to the gallery for another light.”“Yes, yes, be quick,” said Mr Culpepper, who remained in the steward’s room in the dark, until the return of the steward.Tommy Dott then slipped in softly, and commenced filling all his pockets with the raisins; he had nearly taken in his full cargo, when, somehow or another, Mr Culpepper stepped forward from where he stood, and he touched Tommy, whom he immediately seized crying out, “Thieves! thieves!—call the sentry!—sentry, come here.”The sentry of the gun-room door went down the ladder as Mr Culpepper dragged out Tommy, holding him fast by both hands.“Take him, sentry—take him in charge. Call the master-at-arms—little thief. Mr Dott! Hah—well, we’ll see.”The consequence was, that Mr Tommy Dott was handed from the sentry to the master-at-arms, and taken up on the quarterdeck, followed by Mr Culpepper and his steward.There was no defence or excuse to be made: the pockets of his jacket and of his trowsers were stuffed with raisins; and at the bottom of his pocket, when they were emptied by the master-at-arms, was found the squirt.As soon as the hue and cry was over, and all the parties were on the quarter-deck, as the coast was clear, I thought I might as well take advantage of it; and therefore I came out from my hiding-place, went into the steward’s room, filled my handkerchief with raisins, and escaped to the berth unperceived; so that while Tommy Dott was disgorging on the quarter-deck, I was gorging below.Mr Dott was reported to the captain for this heinous offence; and, in consequence, was ordered below under arrest, his place in the captain’s gig being filled up by me; so that in every point of view Tommy suffered, and I reaped the harvest. What pleased me most was, that, being midshipman of the captain’s boat, I was of course continually in the company of the coxswain, Bob Cross.But I must not delay at present, as I have to record a very serious adventure which occurred, and by which I, for a long while, was separated from my companions and shipmates.In ten days we sailed in search of a pirate vessel, which was reported to have committed many dreadful excesses, and had become the terror of the mercantile navy. Our orders were to proceed northward, and to cruise off the Virgin Islands, near which she was said to have been last seen.About three weeks after we had left Carlisle Bay, the look-out man reported two strange sail from the mast-head. I was sent up, as signal mid, to examine them, and found that they were both schooners, hove to close together; one of them very rakish in their appearance. All sail in chase was made immediately, and we came up within three miles of them, when one, evidently the pirate we were in search of, made sail, while the other remained hove to.As we passed the vessel hove to, which we took it for granted was a merchantman, which the pirate had been plundering, the captain ordered one of the cutters to be lowered down with a midshipman and boat’s crew to take possession of her. The men were all in the boat, but the midshipman had gone down for his spy-glass, or something else, and as it was merely with a view of ascertaining what the vessel was, and the chief object was to overtake the pirate vessel, to prevent the delay which was caused by the other midshipman not being ready, Mr Hippesley ordered me to go into the boat instead of him, and, as soon as I was on board of the schooner, to make sail and follow the frigate.The captain did say, “He is too young, Mr Hippesley; is he not?”“I’d sooner trust him than many older, sir,” was the reply of the first lieutenant. “Jump in, Mr Keene.” I did so, with my telescope in my hand. “Lower away, my lads—unhook, and sheer off;” and away went the frigate in pursuit of the pirate vessel, leaving me in the boat, to go on board of the schooner.We were soon alongside, and found that there was not a soul on board of the vessel; what had become of the crew, whether they had been murdered, or not, it was impossible to say, but there were a few drops of blood on the deck.The vessel was an American, bound to one of the islands, with shingle and fir planks; not only was her hold full, but the fir planks were piled up on each side of the deck, between the masts, to the height of five or six feet. The pirate had, apparently, been taking some of the planks on board for her own use.We dropped the boat astern, let draw the foresheet, and made sail after the frigate, which was now more than a mile from us, and leaving us very fast.The schooner was so over-loaded that she sailed very badly, and before the evening closed in, we could just perceive the top-gallant sails of the Calliope above the horizon: but this we thought little of, as we knew that as soon as she had captured the pirate she would run back again, and take us out.There were some hams and other articles on board, for the pirates had not taken everything, although the lockers had been all broken open, and the articles were strewed about in every direction in the cabin and on the deck.Just before dark, we took the bearings of the frigate, and stood the same course as she was doing, and then we sat down to a plentiful meal to which we did justice. I then divided the boat’s crew into watches, went down into the cabin, and threw myself on the standing bed-place, of which there was but one, with all my clothes on; the men who had not the watch went down, and turned in in the cuddy forward, where the seamen usually sleep.It was not till past midnight that I could obtain any sleep; the heat was excessive, and I was teased by the cockroaches, which appeared to swarm in the cabin to an incredible degree, and were constantly running over my face and body. I little thought then why they swarmed. I recollect that I dreamt of murder, and tossing men overboard; and then of the vessel being on fire and after that, I felt very cool and comfortable, and I dreamed no more; I thought that I heard a voice calling my name: it appeared that I did hear it in my sleep, but I slept on.At last I turned round, and felt a splashing as of water, and some water coming into my mouth: I awoke. All was dark and quiet; I put my hand out, and I put it into the water—where was I—was I overboard? I jumped up in my fright; I found that was still on the standing bed-place, but the water was above the mattress.I immediately comprehended that the vessel was sinking, and I called out, but there was no reply.I turned out of the bed-place, and found myself up to my neck in water, with my feet on the cabin-deck. Half swimming, and half floundering, I gained the ladder, and went up the hatchway.It was still quite dark, and I could not perceive nor hear anybody. I called out but there was no reply. I then was certain that the men had left the vessel when they round her sinking, and had left me to sink with her. I may as well here observe, that when the men had found the water rising upon them forward they had rushed on deck in a panic, telling the man at the wheel that the vessel was sinking, and had immediately hauled up the boat to save their lives; but they did recollect me, and the coxswain of the boat had come down in the cabin by the ladder, and called me: but the cabin was full of water, and he, receiving no answer, considered that I was drowned, and returned on deck.The boat had then shoved off, and I was left to my fate; still I hoped that such was not the case, and I hallooed again and again, but in vain, and I thought it was all over with me. It was a dreadful position to be in. I said my prayers and prepared to die, and yet I thought it was hard to die at fifteen years old.Although I do not consider that my prayers were of much efficacy, for there was but little resignation in them, praying had one good effect—it composed me, and I began to think whether there was any chance of being saved.Yes, there were plenty of planks on the deck, and if it were daylight I could tie them together and make a raft, which would bear me up. How I longed for daylight, for I was afraid that the vessel would sink before I could see to do what was requisite. The wind had become much fresher during the night, and the waves now dashed against the sides of the water-logged vessel.As I watched for daylight, I began to reflect how this could have happened; and it occurred to me that the pirates had scuttled the bottom of the vessel to sink her; and in this conjecture I was right.At last a faint light appeared in the east, which soon broke into broad day, and I lost no time in setting about my work.Before I began, however, I thought it advisable to ascertain how much more water there was in the vessel since I had quitted the cabin which it appeared to me must have been about two hours. I therefore went down in the cabin to measure it. I know how high it was when I waded through it. I found, to my surprise, and, I may say, to my joy, that it was not higher than it was before.I thought that perhaps I might be mistaken, so I marked the height of the water at the cabin ladder, and I sat down on deck to watch it; it appeared to me not to rise any higher.This made me reflect, and it then struck me that, as the vessel was laden with timber, she would not probably sink any lower, so I deferred my work till I had ascertained the fact.Three hours did I watch, and found that the water did not rise higher, and I was satisfied; but the wind increased, and the vessel’s sails, instead of flapping to the wind as she drove without any one at the helm, were now bellied out, and the vessel careened to leeward.I was afraid that she would turn over; and finding an axe on the deck, I mounted the rigging with it, and commenced cutting away the lacing of the sails from the mast. I then lowered the gaffs, and cleared away the canvass in the same way, so that the sails fell on the deck. This was a work of at least one hour; but when the canvass was off, the vessel was steady.It was well that I had taken this precaution; for very soon afterwards the wind was much fresher, and the weather appeared very threatening; the sea also rose considerably. I was very tired, and sat down for some time on the deck abaft.It then occurred to me that the weight of the planks upon the deck must not only keep the vessel deeper in the water, but make her more top-heavy, and I determined to throw them overboard; but first I looked for something to eat, and found plenty of victuals in the iron pot in which the men had cooked their supper the night before.As soon as I had obtained from the cask lashed on the deck a drink of water, to wash down the cold fried ham which I had eaten, I set work to throw overboard the planks on deck.When I had thrown over a portion from one side I went to the other, and threw over as many more, that I might, as much as possible, keep the vessel on an even keel.This job occupied me the whole of the day; and when I had completed my task I examined the height of the water at the cabin ladder, and found that the vessel had risen more than six inches. This was a source of great comfort to me, and what pleased me more was, that the wind had gone down again, and the water was much smoother.I made a supper off some raw ham, for the fire had been extinguished, and committing myself to the protection of Heaven, lay down as the sun set, and from the fatigue of the day was soon in a sound sleep.I awoke about the middle of the night. The stars shone brightly, and there was but a slight ripple on the water.I thought of my mother, of my aunt Milly, of Captain Delmar, and I felt for the seal-skin pouch which was fastened round my neck. It was all safe.I calculated chances, and I made up my mind that I should be picked up by some vessel or another before long.I said to myself—“Why, I am better off now than I was when in the wherry, with Peggy Pearson; I was saved then, why should I not be now?”I felt no desponding, and lay down, and was soon fast asleep.It was broad daylight when I awoke; I took my spy-glass, and looking round the horizon, discovered a vessel several miles off, standing towards me. This gave me fresh spirits.I made a raw breakfast, and drank plenty of water as before. The wind, which was very light, increased a little. The vessel came nearer, and I made her out to be a schooner. In two hours she was close to me, and I waved my hat, and hallooed as loud as I could.The schooner was full of men, and steered close to me—she was a beautiful craft, and, although the wind was so light, glided very fast through the water, and I could not help thinking that she was the pirate vessel which the frigate had been in chase of.It appeared as if they intended to pass me, and I hallooed, “Schooner, ahoy! Why don’t you send a boat on board?”I must say, that when the idea struck me that she was a pirate vessel, my heart almost failed me.Shortly afterwards the schooner rounded to and lowered a boat, which pulled to the vessel. The boat’s crew were all negroes.One of them said, “Jump in, you white boy; next jump he take be into the shark’s mouth,” continued the man, grinning, as he addressed himself to the others in the boat.I got into the boat, and they rowed on board the schooner. I did then think that I was done for; for what mercy could I expect, being a king’s officer, from pirates, which the words of the negro convinced me they were?As soon as I was alongside of the schooner, they ordered me to go up the side, which I did, with my spy-glass in my hand. I leaped from the gunwale down on the deck, and found myself on board of an armed vessel, with a crew wholly composed of blacks.I was rudely seized by two of them, who led me aft to where a negro stood apart from the rest. A more fierce, severe, determined-looking countenance, I never beheld. He was gigantic in stature and limbed like the Farnesian Hercules.“Well, boy, who are you?” said he, “and how came you on board of that vessel?”I told him in very few words.“Then you belong to that frigate that chased us the day before yesterday?”“Yes,” replied I.“What is her name?”“The Calliope.”“She sails well,” said he.“Yes,” replied I; “she is the fastest sailer on this station.”“That’s all the information I want of you, boy: now you may go.”“Go where?” replied I.“Go where?—go overboard, to be sure,” replied he, with a grin.My heart died within me; but I mustered courage enough to say, “Much obliged to you, sir; but I’d rather stay where I am, if it’s all the same to you.”The other negroes laughed at this reply, and I felt a little confidence; at all events, their good-humour gave me courage, and I felt that being bold was my only chance.The negro captain looked at me for a time, as if considering, and at last said to the men, “Overboard with him.”“Good-bye, sir, you’re very kind,” said I; “but this is a capital spy-glass, and I leave it to you as a legacy.” And I went up to him and offered him my spy-glass. Merciful Heaven! bow my heart beat against my ribs when I did this!The negro captain took the glass, and looked through it.“It is a good glass,” said he, as he removed it from his eyes. It was poor Green’s spy-glass, which he had given me for showing him the mason’s signs.“Well, white boy, I accept your present; and now, good bye.”“Good-bye, sir. Do me one kindness in return,” said I, very gravely, for I felt my hour was come.“And what is that?” replied the negro.“Tie a shot to my heels, that I may sink quickly; it won’t take them long.”“You don’t ask me to spare your life, then?” replied the negro.“He de very first white dat not ask it,” said one of the negroes.“Dat really for true,” said another.“Yes, by gum,” replied a third.Oh, how I wished to know what to say at that moment! The observations of the negroes made me imagine that I had better notaskfor it and yet how I clung to life! It was an awful moment—I felt as if I had lived a year in a few minutes. For a second or two I felt faint and giddy—I drew a long breath and revived.“You don’t answer me, boy,” said the negro captain.“Why should I ask when I feel certain to be refused? If you will give me my life, I will thank you: I don’t particularly wish to die, I can assure you.”“I have taken an oath never to spare a white man. For once I am sorry that I cannot break my oath.”“If that is all, I am a boy, and not a man,” replied I. “Keep me till I grow bigger.”“By golly, captain, that very well said. Keep him, captain,” said one of the negroes.“Yes, captain,” replied another; “keep him to tend your cabin. Proper you have white slave boy.”The negro captain for some time made no reply; he appeared to be in deep thought. At last he said—“Boy, you have saved your life: you may thank yourself and not me. Prossa, let him be taken below; give him a frock and trousers and throw that infernal dress overboard, or I may change my resolution.”The negro who was addressed, and who wore a sort of uniform as an officer—which he was, being second mate—led me below,—nothing loth, I can assure my readers.When I was between decks. I sat down upon a chest, my head swam, and I fainted. The shock had been too powerful for a lad of my age. They brought water, and recovered me. When I revived, I felt that I might have lost in their good opinion by thus knowing my weakness; and I had sufficient presence of mind to ask for something to eat. This deceived them; they said to one another that I must have been on board that vessel for two days without food, and of course I did not deny it.They brought me some meat and some grog. I ate and drank a little. They then took off my uniform, and put on me a check frock and white trousers; after which, I said I wished to lie down a little, and they left me to sleep on the chest where I had been seated.I pretended to sleep, although I could not; and I found out by their conversation that I gained the goodwill not only of the crew, but of the captain, by my behaviour.I considered that I had gained my life, at least for the present; but what security could I have in such company?After an hour or two I felt quite recovered, and I thought it advisable to go on deck. I did so, and went right aft to the negro captain, and stood before him.“Well, boy,” said he, “why do you come to me?”“You gave me my life; you’re the greatest friend I have here, so I come to you. Can I do anything?”“Yes; you may assist in the cabin, if your white blood does not curdle at the idea of attending on a black man.”“Not at all. I will do anything for them who are kind to me, as you have been.”“And think it no disgrace?”“Not the least. Is it a disgrace to be grateful?”The reader will observe how particularly judicious my replies were, although but fifteen years old. My dangerous position had called forth the reflection and caution of manhood.“Go down into the cabin; you may amuse yourself till I come.”I obeyed this order. The cabin was fitted up equal to most yachts, with Spanish mahogany and gold mouldings; a beaufet full of silver (there was no glass) occupied nearly one-half of it; even the plates and dishes were of the same material. Silver candelabras hung down from the middle of the beams; a variety of swords, pistols, and other weapons were fixed up against the bulkhead; a small bookcase, chiefly of Spanish books, occupied the after-bulkhead, and the portraits of several white females filled up the intervals; a large table in the centre, a stand full of charts, half a dozen boxes of cigars, and two most luxurious sofas, completed the furniture.A door from the starboard side led, I presumed, to the stateroom, where the captain slept; but I did not venture to open it.I surveyed all this magnificence, wondering who this personage could be; and more still, how it was that the whole of the crew were, as well as the captain, of the negro race.We had heard that the pirate we were in search of was a well-known character—a Spaniard—who went by the name of Chico, and that his crew consisted of Americans, English, and Spaniards. That this was the vessel, I knew, from the conversation of the men when I was below for they called her the Stella.Now, it appeared that the vessel had changed masters; the crew were chiefly Spanish negroes, or other negroes who spoke Spanish, but some of them spoke English, and a few words of Spanish; these, I presumed, were American or English runaways. But the captain—his language was as correct as my own; Spanish he spoke fluently, for I heard him giving orders in that language while I was in the cabin; neither was he flat-nosed, like the majority. Had he been white, his features would have been considered regular, although there was a fierceness about them at times which was terrible to look at.“Well,” thought I, “if I live and do well, I shall know more about it; yes, if I live, I wish I was on the quarterdeck of the Calliope, even as Tommy was with his pockets stuffed full of the purser’s raisins, and looking like a fool and a rogue at the same time.”I had been down in the cabin about half an hour, when the negro captain made his appearance.“Well,” said he, “I suppose you would as soon see the devil as me—eh, boy?”“No: indeed,” replied I, laughing—for I had quite recovered my confidence—“for you were about to send me to the devil, and I feel most happy that I still remain with you.”“You’re exactly the cut of boy I like,” replied he, smiling. “How I wish that you were black!—I detest your colour.”“I have no objection to black my face, if you wish it,” replied I: “it’s all the same to me what colour I am.”“How old are you?”“I was fifteen a few months back.”“How long have you been to sea?”“About eighteen months.”He then asked me a great many more questions, about the captain, the officers, the ship, and myself; to all of which I answered in a guarded way.A negro brought down his supper; it was hot, and very savoury; without any order on his part, I immediately attended upon him during his meal. He told the negro not to wait and conversed with me during the time that he was eating: at last, he told me how he had doubled the frigate during the night. I then remarked that we had been informed that the vessel was called the Stella, that the captain’s name was Chico, and the crew were composed of white men of different nations.“A month or two ago, it was the case,” replied the captain. “Now I have done, and you may clear away,” continued he, rising from his chair and throwing himself down on one of the sofas. “Stop; you are hungry, I don’t doubt; you can sit down and eat your supper, and remove the things afterwards.”I did as he told me: it was the first time in my life I had supped off massive plate—but I was in strange company; however, it did not spoil my appetite, and I did not forget to drink a goblet of wine by way of washing down my repast.“Thank you, sir,” said I, rising, and then performing my office of attendant.At his order, I rang the bell for the negro, who assisted me in clearing away, and then went out with the remains of the supper.“Am I to stay or go?” said I, respectfully.“You may go now. Find the man who came in just now—José he is called; tell him to give you something to sleep upon.”“Good-night, sir,” said I.“Good-night, boy.”As I went forward looking for the negro servant, I was accosted more than once very kindly by the negro seamen. At last I went up on the forecastle, and they asked me to tell them how I was left on board the schooner. I did so to those who spoke English, and one of them, who could speak both languages, translated into Spanish for the benefit of the others.“You be first white he hab spared, I tell you,” said the American negro, who had translated into Spanish what I had told them, after the other had left me with him.“The captain says he wishes I were black,” said I to the negro; “I wish I was, too, while I am on board of this vessel—my colour makes him angry, I see that. Could not I be stained black?”“Well, I do think it will be a very safe thing for you, if it could be; for you have not seen him sometimes in his moods; and if to-morrow morning he was chased and hard pressed by the frigate, you would stand a poor chance, suppose his eyes light upon you. I can’t tink what make him to let you off, only but cause you give him de spy-glass in dat hold way. I tink I know a chap on board who understand dat—I go see—you wait here till I come back.”The negro left me, and in a few minutes returned, with a sort of half-Indian, half-negro-looking cut of fellow, with whom he conversed in Spanish.“He say he know how to make brown like himself but not dark same as me. Suppose you wish he do it to-night—begin now?”“Yes, I do wish it,” replied I; and so I did sincerely, for I felt that it might be the saving of my life; and I had a great aversion to be torn to pieces by the sharks which followed the vessel, that being anything but an agreeable mode of going out of the world.The American black remained with me, and we conversed for about half an hour, by which time we were joined by the Spanish Main negro, who brought up with him some decoction or another, boiling hot. They stripped me and rubbed me all over with a bit of sponge, not only the face and hands, but every part of my body and then I was left standing quite naked to dry; the crew had gathered round us, and were very merry at the idea of changing my colour.As soon as the warm air had dried me, the application was created; and when I was again dry, the American told me to put on my clothes, and that he would call me early to have two more applications of the stuff, and that then I should be quite dark enough.I asked for José, and told him what the captain had said; he gave me a bundle of matting for a bed, and I was soon fast asleep. About three o’clock in the morning I was called up, and the staining repeated twice, and I then lay down again.When the hands were turned up at five bells (for everything was very regular on board), José brought me a glass to look at myself, and I was quite satisfied that my colour would no longer annoy the captain. I was not as black as a negro, but I was as dark as a mulatto.I asked the Spanish negro, through José, who could speak both languages, whether I might wash myself? He replied, all day long if I pleased; that I should not get the colour off; it would wear off in time, and the stuff must be applied once a month, and that would be sufficient.I went to the forecastle, and washed myself; the negro crew were much amused, and said that I now was a “bel muchaco”—a handsome boy. I dare say they thought so—at all events, they appeared to be very friendly with me, and my staining myself gave them great satisfaction. I was sitting with José between decks when the cabin bell rang.“You go,” said he, showing his white teeth as he grinned; “I go after, see what captain tink.”I went into the cabin, and knocked at the state-room door.“Come in,” said the captain.I went in, and met him face to face.“What!” said he, looking earnestly at me—“yet it must be—it is you, is it not?”“Yes, sir,” replied I, “it is me. I’ve turned dark to please you, and I hope it does please you.”“It does, boy, I can look at you now, and forget that you are white. I can. I feel that I can love you now—you’ve got rid of your only fault in my eyes, and I’m not sorry. I’m only glad that I did not—”“Give me to the sharks,” said I, finishing his sentence.“Exactly so; say no more about it.”I immediately turned the conversation, by asking him what he required; and I attended him while dressing. From that time he became very friendly towards me, constantly conversing with me. I did my duty as his servant for more than a fortnight, during which time we became very intimate, and (I may as well confess it) I grew very fond of my new master, and thought less about the ship and my shipmates. We were going into a port, I knew, but what port I did not know.I often had conversations with José and the American black, and gained a great deal of information from them; but I could not discover much of the history of the captain. On that point they refused to be communicative; occasionally hints were given, and then, as if recollecting themselves, they stopped speaking.It was about three weeks before we made the land of Cuba, and as soon as we did so, the schooner was hove to till night, when sail was again made, and before ten o’clock we saw the lights of the Havannah. When about three miles off we again hove to, and about midnight we perceived under the land the white sails of a schooner, which was standing out. Sail was made, and we ran down to her, and before she was aware that we were an enemy, she was laid by the board and in the possession of our crew. The people belonging to the vessel were handed up, and she was examined. She proved to be a vessel fitted out for the slave trade, with the manacles, etcetera, on board of her, and was just sailing for the coast.I was on the deck when the white men, belonging to the slaver, were brought on board, and never shall I forget the rage and fury of the captain.All sail was made upon both schooners, standing right off from the land, and at daylight we had left it a long way astern.José said to me, “You better not go to captain dis day. Keep out of his way—perhaps he recollect dat you white.”From what I had seen the night before, I thought this good advice; and I not only did not go into the cabin, but I did not show myself on deck.About eight o’clock in the morning I heard the boat lowered down and orders given to scuttle the vessel, as soon as she had been well searched. This was done, and the boat returned, having found several thousand dollars on board of her, which they handed upon deck.I remained below: I heard the angry voice of the negro captain—the pleadings and beggings for mercy of the prisoners—busy preparations making on deck; and several men came down and handed up buckets of sand; an iron grating was handed up. The countenances of the negroes who were thus employed appeared inflamed, as if their wrath was excited; now and then they laughed at each other, and looked more like demons than men. That some dreadful punishment was about to be inflicted I was certain and I remained crouched behind the foremast on the lower-deck.At last the men were all on deck again, and I was left alone; and then I heard more noise, begging for mercy, weeping and wailing, and occasionally a few words from the mouth of the negro captain; then rose shrieks and screams, and appeals to Heaven, and a strong smell, which I could not comprehend, came down the hatchways.The shrieks grew fainter, and at last ceased, and something was thrown overboard. Then the same tragedy, whatever it was, was acted over again—more attempts to obtain mercy—more shrieks—again the same overpowering smell. What could it be? I would have given much to know, but something told me that I must remain where I was. Ten times was this repeated, and then, as evening came on, there was a bustle on deck, and after a time the crew descended the hatchways.I caught the eye of the American, with whom I was intimate, and as he passed me, I beckoned to him. He came to me.“What has been done?” said I in a whisper.“Captain punish slave traders,” replied he; “always punish them so.”“Why, what did he do to them?”“Do?—roast ’em alive. Dis third slave vessel he take, and he always serve ’em so. Serve ’em right; captain very savage; no go to him till morrow morning—you keep close.” So saying, the American negro left me.As I afterwards found out, the long boat on the booms had been cleared out, the sand laid at the bottom to prevent the fire from burning the boat, the captain and crew of the slave vessel laid on one after the other upon the iron grating, and burnt alive. This accounted for the horrible smell that had come down the hatchways.It may be considered strange that I really did not feel so much horror as perhaps I ought to have done. Had this dreadful punishment been inflicted upon anyotherpersons than slave dealers, andbyany other parties than negroes, I should not have been able to look at the captain without abhorrence expressed in my countenance; but I know well the horrors of the slave trade from conversation I had had with Bob Cross; and I had imbibed such a hatred against the parties who had carried it on, that it appeared to me to be an act of retaliation almost allied to justice. Had the negro captain only warred against slave dealers, I do not think I should have cared about remaining in the vessel; but he had told me and fully proved to me, that he detested all white men, and had never spared them except in my own instance.I must acknowledge that I felt very much like going into the lion’s den, when the next morning, on his ringing the cabin bell, I presented myself to the captain; but so far from being in an ill-humour, he was very kind to me.After breakfast, as I was going out, he said to me, “You must have a name: I shall call you Cato—recollect that; and now I have a question to ask you—What is that which you carry round your neck on a ribbon?”“A letter, sir,” replied I.“A letter! and why do you carry a letter?”“Because it is of the greatest importance to me.”“Indeed! Now, Cato, sit down on the other sofa, and let me know your history.”I felt that I could not do better than to make this man at once my confidant. He might take a strong interest in me, and it was not likely to go farther. I therefore told him everything connected with my birth and parentage, what my suspicions had been, and how the letter had confirmed them. I unsewed the seal-skin, and gave him the letter to read—without being aware that he could read: he took it and read it aloud.“Yes,” said he, “that’s proof under his own hand; and now, Cato, never be afraid of me, for, however I may wreak my vengeance upon others, I swearby my colourthat I never will hurt you, or permit others to do so. I am a tiger—I know it; but you have often seen a little spaniel caressed by the tiger, whose fangs are turned against every other living thing. You are quite safe.”“I feel I am, since you say so,” replied I; “and since I am to be your pet, I shall take liberties, and ask you, in return, to tell me your history.”“I am glad that you have asked it, as I wish you to know it. I will begin at once—“I was born in America, in the state of Pennsylvania, of free parents. My father was a sail-maker, and was worth money; bet a free black in America is even worse treated and more despised than a slave. I had two brothers, who went to school with me.“My father intended to bring me up for the Church. You look astonished; but in the States we have clergymen of our colour, as well as white ones; looked down upon and despised, I grant, although they do teach the Word of God; but I was very unfit for that profession, as you may suppose. I was very proud and haughty; I felt that I was as good as a white man, and I very often got into scrapes from my resenting injuries.“However, my education went on successfully, much more so than that of my brothers, who could not learn. I could, and learnt rapidly but I learnt to hate and detest white men, and more especially Americans; I brooded over the injuries of people of colour, as we were called, and all my father’s advice and entreaty could not persuade me to keep my thoughts to myself. As I grew up to manhood, I spoke boldly, and more than once nearly lost my life for so doing; for most Americans think no more of taking the life of one like me than of a dog in the street. More than one knife has been directed to my heart, and more than once was I then up before the judge, and sentenced to imprisonment for no fault; my evidence, and the evidence of those of my colour, not being permitted to be received in a court of justice. Any white villain had only to swear falsely—and there is no want of that class in America—and there was no appeal. At last I was sentenced to be whipped; then my blood boiled, and I vowed a vengeance which I have fearfully adhered to.”“I do not wonder at that,” said I; “I would have done the same.”“The man who had sworn falsely against me in this last instance had come up from the South; I obtained what money I could from my father, and went away in pursuit of him. I found him—dogged him, and one evening I accosted him, and plunged my bowie-knife into his heart. I fled that State, and crossed the Mississippi.“I had not been long in Arkansas before a man—a cotton-grower, who owned about a hundred and fifty slaves—inquired who I was, and whether I had a pass; I replied that I was a free man, born in Pennsylvania, and was there on my own affairs. The next day I was taken up, brought before the magistrate, and this scoundrel swore that I was his slave, and had absconded from him ten years before.“My defence—the proof which I offered to bring, was not listened to. I was made over to him, and the rascal grinned as the constables brought me away with him. His plantation was at the Red River. It was difficult to escape and indeed, almost useless to attempt it: but the fact was, that I did not wish to do so; I remained to have my revenge. I tried to make the other slaves rise against him, but they were too cowed; they even informed against me, and I was tied down, and flogged by the drivers until the flesh fell from my shoulders.“As soon as I recovered, I determined to do—or die. I heard that there were some pirate vessels in the Barataria lagoons on the other side of New Orleans; I resolved to join the crews, but first to have my revenge. I did so: I set fire to the plantation house—struck the scoundrel who had made me a slave senseless as he attempted to escape, and threw his body into the flames; I then made the door fast, and fled. I was met by one of the overseers, who was armed, and who would have stopped me: I beat his brains out with his own musket, and then gained the woods. You see that I am powerful; you hardly know how much so. After several days’ travelling, I arrived at the lagoons. I found this very vessel at anchor. I offered myself, and they accepted me immediately.“There were several of my colour on board—runaway slaves—and all good determined men. These were the people I required, for they understood me. Even on board of a pirate vessel, the same contempt was shown towards us—still considered as inferior beings. All the heavy work all the dirty work, was for the negro race; and we often worked like slaves, while the captain and the rest of the crew caroused. I was three years on board of this vessel. Our rendezvous where we are going to now, is a small land-locked bay on the island of Cuba. No vessel in it can be seen from seaward, and there is but one narrow pass by which it communicates with the interior, and it is far from any habitation. A better retreat for a pirate vessel could not well be found. We used very often to go in to refit, and take in provisions and water; for in a cave there, we keep the provisions which we take from other vessels.“In a desperate fight which we had with an English man-of-war brig, we lost nearly forty of our men. The captain, Chico, as he was called, was obliged to fill up with black men, until he could procure others. The consequence was, that with the ten before on board, there were fifty blacks to seventy whites. It was then that I made up my mind that I would retaliate for all that my race had suffered. I was sure of the ten with whom I had sailed so long; I sounded the others, and found them all willing.“We sailed from the Mexican Gulf, and made for the Rendezvous Bay, in Cuba. As soon as we arrived, of course, as with all pirate vessels, the first day was dedicated to revelling and intoxication—that is, by the white portion of the crew. We negroes were employed in getting the casks ashore for water. That very night, when they all lay asleep and drunk, we put every soul of them to death, and the Stella belonged to me and my brave black who chose me for their captain, and swore by their wrongs eternal enmity to the European race.“As you may suppose, I was short-manned; but we soon found plenty of men, and have now as fine a crew as ever trod a deck.”“How long is it since you took possession of the vessel?”“About eight or nine months, during which time I have spared none except you. The usual death is drowning; but if I fall in with a slaver, then—you know what took place yesterday.”I was silent for a time. “I do not wonder,” said I, at last, “at your hatred of the whites, especially of the Americans. As for your wreaking your vengeance upon those employed in the slave trade, dreadful as it is, I scarcely pity them; but in your general warfare against the whites, recollect that you may murder those who are your friends, and who have done all they can to put an end to slavery. Even in America, there are many who are opposed to it.”“It is impossible to make a distinction,” replied the negro.“What is your name?” said I, musing.“Why do you ask? You may as well know; I wish it to be known: it is James Vincent.”“But tell me, if you were to meet with a very superior force, what would you do?”“Run if I could; if not, fight.”“But you might be captured, and then—”“Never, boy; never.”“Well,” said I, “as you have begun by sparing me, I hope you will spare others now.”“I don’t know why I spared you. Had you shown any fear of death I should not have done so; but I felt that you would not care about it. I believe it was that.”About ten days after, we made the east end of the island of Cuba, and ran into the Bay of Rendezvous, as it was named by the pirate. It was very small, but completely land-locked, and the land so high on every side that the masts of the vessel could not be seen from the seaward. The bay on the land side was met by a deep, narrow ravine, between mountains which were almost perpendicular, the ravine itself being accessible from the main land by only one narrow path known to the pirates, and which they seldom made use of, except when a spy was sent to the Havannah to ascertain what vessels were about to sail.On the high land which shut in the bay from the sea, the pirates had a man constantly on the look-out, to report any vessel which might be in the offing, and Vincent himself passed much of his time there, as the breeze was fresh and the air cool to what it was down in the land-locked bay. I was, for the same reason, very fond of being on the look-out hill, and generally followed up the captain when he went out there. He certainly now showed a strong affection for me, and I liked him better than I ever thought I could have done. He was constantly telling me of the treatment he and the other poor blacks had received in America, and I could not help feeling my blood boil, and a conviction that, had I been so treated, I should probably have been equally under the influence of revenge. It is the world, and the treatment we receive from it, which makes us chiefly what we are.One day the captain told me he was going that evening to obtain information, as the spy he had sent had returned unsuccessful, and that he should be absent for three or four days.Although I was not discontented with my position, still, as the reader may well suppose, I had a strong wish to be out of it as soon as possible, and I had determined to escape if I could; it immediately occurred to me, that his absence would give me the opportunity.I replied with a laugh, “Had you not better take me with you?”“Very likely, indeed, you would be so very useful; I shall have quite enough to do to take care of myself; besides, you might betray me,” added he, with a fierce and penetrating look.“Thank you, for your good opinion,” replied I, indignantly. “So you think, because you have saved my life, that I would take yours. I am not yet such a rascal, whatever I may become by keeping bad company.”“Well, well,” replied the negro captain, “I believe I am wrong, so don’t get into a passion; but, at all events, you must see that it is impossible I can take you with me.”“If you don’t choose, I can’t help it,” said I; “but I don’t like remaining here without you; I shall run away if I can, so I give you fair warning.”“You won’t find that quite so easy,” replied he, laughing; “and I recommend you not to attempt it.”Here the conversation dropped. About midnight the captain commenced his ascent of the ravine, and I resolved that I would not lose the opportunity, if it offered, of following him. I watched him as long as I could see him, that I might know the direction of the secret path, and then I joined the crew, who were lying down by the tents which they had pitched on the shore. Shortly afterwards, the Spanish Indian, who had coloured me, passed by me, and, as I intended to make the attempt before it was quite dark, I thought that I would remove any suspicion, and I therefore requested him to stain me again. This he consented to do, and in half an hour I was again naked among the negroes and undergoing the operation. Having received the two applications, as before, I then quitted them.As soon as it was quite dark, I armed myself with a pair of pistols, and crawled underneath the back of the captain’s tent, in which I always slept, and, without being perceived, gained the narrow path in the brushwood by which the captain had left.I continued in the path for some time, by feeling the brushwood on either side; but before I had crawled half way up the ravine, I found that the brushwood had not been cut away any farther and I was at a loss how to proceed. All traces were gone, and all I had to do was to climb up to the summit, and to take my chance of finding any egress. I toiled on with difficulty, sometimes stopped by a rock which would take me minutes to climb over at others, holding on by the brushwood for my life. By twelve o’clock I had gained more than two-thirds of the ascent, and then the moon rose, and assisted me with her light. I must say, that when I looked up and saw the rocks towering above me, and overhanging my path, I felt that escape was nearly impossible: however, I recommenced my labour, and gained some ground, when, as I was clinging to the side of a rock by a small shrub, it gave way, and I rolled and fell down many feet, between that rock and another opposite to it.I was not much hurt, and I regained my legs. Looking up and about me, I found that I was in a narrow passage, between the rocks, leading both up and down—in fact, I had tumbled into the secret path that I had been in search of. Delighted with this discovery, I now set off with great spirit, and in half an hour found myself on the other side of the lull which formed the ravine, and looking down upon an expanse of country in the interior. Being very tired, I sat down, that I might recover my strength before I continued my journey.“I am free at last,” thought I, and my memory wandered back to my mother my ship, and my captain—old Culpepper, Tommy Dott, and Bob Cross. “I shall see them all,” I thought, “and what a story I shall have to tell.” As soon as I had rested myself and recovered my breath, I thought I might as well start.I had not proceeded more than a hundred yards before I thought heard a noise, as if some one was approaching. I listened—I felt sure that such was the case, and I also heard the deep baying of a hound. The noise increased rapidly—it was that of one forcing his way through the brushwood, which covered the side of the hill.In a minute afterwards I perceived a man coming up the hill at a swift pace, directly towards me. As he approached I could almost swear that it was Vincent, the negro captain; but when within ten yards of me, I perceived, him turn round and flourish his sabre in the air, while, at the same time, three large bloodhounds sprang at him. One fell by the blow of his sabre, but the other two flew at his throat, and fastened on him, tearing him to the around, and holding him in spite of all his struggling and his immense strength.I recollected my pistols: I cocked them, ran up, and putting one to the head of the nearest dog, blew out its brains. I was equally successful with the other—they both lay dead by his side, and Vincent was released. He started up.“It is me, Cato,” said I.“Cato!” replied he; “but there is not a moment to be lost. I understand it all.”He seized me by the arm, and dragged me with him to the narrow entrance of the pass, and as soon as we came in he rolled three large rocks, which had evidently been used for such purpose before, so as completely to block up the entrance.“There,” said he, leaning back quite exhausted; “be quiet, Cato. We are safe now; they will be on the top of the hill directly.”We remained where we were about ten minutes, when we heard voices not very far from us. They were the pursuers of the negro captain who were evidently baffled. After a time the sounds receded from us, and we heard them no more. Vincent then spoke:—“You were escaping, Cato.”“I had escaped,” replied I: “I told you that I would.”“Strange that you should have discovered the path; did any one betray it to you?”“No one,” replied I: and I then told him how I had fallen into it.“Well you have returned all obligations, and more than ever you owed me,” said he: “you have saved my life this time, and that when all chance was over.”“Then,” replied I, “although I shall be very sorry to part with you, give me that liberty which I had gained, and which I lost in defending you from the dogs.”“I would have let you go then, Cato,” replied he, “but your life would have been sacrificed. My pursuers would have hurried you to prison before you could have explained who you were. You forget your colour is changed; they were not seeking me, but a runaway slave, and the bloodhounds came upon my track. Those white men show no mercy; they have more pleasure in seeing a runaway slave torn to pieces by those dogs than in recovering possession of him. It is a sort of fox-chase to them,” continued he, grating his teeth after he had said so. “Cato, I will give you your liberty, if you wish it, and I know you do wish it, as soon as I can with any prudence; that I promise you, and you know that I will keep my word.”“I am quite satisfied,” replied I.“And do you promise me that you will not attempt to escape a second time?”“I promise you that I will not,” replied I.“Enough,” said Vincent. “Now let us go down the hill, for I am very much torn by those infernal brutes, and must have the wounds washed and attended to.”We descended the hill, in silence, and in a quarter of an hour had gained the tent. Vincent was severely bitten and torn: as soon as his wounds had been dressed he lay down on his mat, and I did the same.It was some days before Vincent recovered from the severe injuries which he had received from the bloodhounds; and he did not appear to be inclined to run any more risks of that sort. Although he said little, I could perceive that he was brooding over future vengeance and he was now nearly the whole of the day with his glass on the look-out hill.One morning a schooner hove in sight, steering from the Havannah to the southward and eastward, either for the islands of the Spanish Main. The Stella had for many days been ready for instant sailing, and having watched her till near sunset, Vincent sent down orders for every soul to be on board, and the anchor hove up. Just as it was dark we towed out of the bay, and made all sail.At daylight the schooner was but a few miles ahead of us and not being a fast sailer, in little more than an flour we were alongside of her. She proved to be bound to the island of Curaçao, being the property of an old Dutch gentleman, who was on board with his daughter, a little girl about seven years old. The crew consisted chiefly of negroes, slaves to the owner; the master of the vessel and the mate being, with the exception of the old gentleman and the little girl, the only white people on board.As usual, the crew were brought on board by the pirates, who reported to the captain that the vessel was in ballast, and of no value. As the crew of the Stella were already more than requisite, Vincent did not require the negroes; he told them that they might go on board the schooner again, and take her into any port they pleased; with the white people, however it was another affair.I had remained below, not wishing to witness a scene of butchery; but I was induced to look up the ladder, in consequence of José telling me that there was a little white girl come on board. At the time that I did so, Vincent had just done speaking with the negroes belonging to the captured vessel; they had fallen back, and there was then standing before Vincent, the master and mate of the vessel, the old Dutch gentleman, and the little girl.A more interesting child I never had seen, and my heart bled at the idea of her being sacrificed. I could not help hoping that Vincent would have a similar feeling, but I was mistaken. The master and mate were pointed at, and immediately seized by negroes and tossed over into the sea. The old gentleman bowed his head over the beautiful child, and she knelt to him, as if for his blessing before she died. At that very moment Vincent gave the sign—I could remain quiet to longer—I sprang on the deck.“Stop!” cried I to the men who were about to seize the old gentleman—“stop!” The negroes did fall back at my voice.“What is this?” cried Vincent.“Captain Vincent,” cried I, “do you call yourself a man, to war with children and old grey-headed men? You must not, shall not, touch these two. You have wreaked your vengeance upon the white men; be content—let these go.”“Cato,” replied Vincent, fiercely, “it is well that it is you that have dared to snatch the prey from the fangs of the wild beast. Had it been another, this pistol should have sent a ball whizzing through his brain; as it is, go down below immediately.”“I do not fear your pistol, Captain Vincent, nor will I go below; that very pistol, in my hand, saved you from the fangs of the blood-hound. I tell you, therefore, that you must not destroy that innocent child—if you love me, you must not; for I will hate, detest, and scorn you ever afterwards. I entreat you—I implore you to let them go: they are not fit objects for your vengeance; and if you destroy them, I tell you, you are a coward.”“What!” roared the tiger, “a coward!” and, no longer able to contain himself he levelled his pistol at me and drew the trigger. It missed fire; Vincent looked very confused—he tossed the pistol on deck, folded his arms and turned his face away.There was a dead silence. The negro crew looked first at me and then at the captain, as if awaiting orders, and uncertain of the issue. The Dutch gentleman seemed to be so lost in surprise, as to almost forget his impending fate; while the little girl clung to him and stared at me with her deep blue eyes. It was what on the theatres they would call a tableau.I followed up my advantage. Stepping forward, and placing myself before the old man and the child, I first broke the silence.“Captain Vincent,” said I, “you did once promise me that you would never injure me or attempt my life; that promise you have broken. Since that, you have made me another promise—you may recollect it—which was, that you would allow me to leave you on the first favourable opportunity; there cannot be any opportunity more favourable than the present. The negroes whom you are to send back to the schooner do not know how to navigate her. I request, therefore, to know whether you intend to keep this second promise, or to break it as you have the first? I ask my liberty.”“If I broke my promise just now, it was your fault,” replied Vincent, coolly. “I am sorry for it, and I can say no more; I intended to keep it, and, to prove so, I now keep my second—you may go.”“I thank you for that. I only wish that, now I leave you, I could leave you with feelings of good-will and not of—I must say it—of horror and disgust. Captain Vincent, once more let me beg, as a last favour, that you will spare these poor people.”“Since you are so particularly interested about this useless old man and still more useless child,” replied Vincent, sarcastically, “I will now make a proposal to you. You have your liberty. Do you choose to give it up and remain here, provided I let them go away in the schooner? Come now—take your choice; for I swear by my colour, that if you go away in the schooner, the moment you shove off, they shall go over the gunwale.”“My choice is then made,” replied I; for I knew that when he swore by his colour he was in earnest: “release them, and I will remain here.” I little knew what I was to undergo in consequence of this decision.“Be it so,” said Vincent: then turning to one of the mates, “let them go back with the negroes; hoist the boat up when she returns, and sail for the Rendezvous.” So saying, he went down into the cabin.“You are saved,” said I, going up to the old Dutch gentleman; “lose no time; get into the boat as fast as possible, and make sail on your vessel as soon as you get on board. Good bye, little girl,” said I, taking her hand.“I thank you,” replied the gentleman in good English—“I cannot say how much; I am so surprised at what I have seen but recollect the name of Vanderwelt, of Curaçao; and if ever we meet again, you will find me grateful.”“I will; but ask no more questions now—into the boat—quick,” said I, shaking his proffered hand. They were handed down into the boat by the negroes.I remained on deck until they were put on board; the boat returned, was hoisted up, the schooner made sail again, and then I went down into the cabin. I found the negro captain stretched upon the sofa, his face covered up with both his hands; he remained in the same position, taking no notice of my coming down. Although my confidence in him was destroyed after his snapping the pistol at me, yet when I reflected how I had bearded him in his rage, I did make some excuse for him; moreover, I knew that it was my interest to be on the best terms with him, and, if possible, make him forget what had passed, for I felt that his proud spirit would make it difficult for him to forgive himself for having been induced by his passion to break an oath which he had sworn to by his colour; I therefore, after a little reflection, went up to him and said—“I am sorry that I made you so angry, Captain Vincent; you must forgive me, but I thought that deed beneath you, and I could not bear to have a bad opinion of you.”“Do you mean to assert that you have not a bad opinion of me now?” replied he, fixing his eyes upon me.“No, certainly not; you have released those I pleaded for, and I am very grateful to you for having done so.”“You have made me do what I never did before,” replied he, raising himself and sitting with his feet on the deck.“I know I have; I have made you spare those of my colour.”“I did not mean that; you have irritated me so as to make me break my oath.”“That was my own doing—my fault rather than yours. I had no right to speak as I did; but I was in a great rage, and that is the truth. I do believe that, if I had had a pistol in my hand, I should have fired it at you; so we may cry quits on that score.”“I am angry with myself—the more so, that I little imagined that you would have remained with me after my breaking my oath. Either you must have felt great interest about those people, or you must have great confidence in me, a confidence winch I have proved that I do not deserve.”“That you did forget yourself, I grant; but I have that confidence that it will be a warning to you, and you will not forget yourself again; I therefore remain with you with perfect confidence, feeling I am quite safe, until you think proper to give me my liberty.”“You will wish to leave me then?”“I have relations and friends—a profession to follow. What can I gain by remaining here, except your friendship? I never will be a pirate, you may be assured, I wish from my heart that you were not one.”“And who should be pirates if the blacks are not?” replied Vincent. “Have they not the curse of Cain? Are they not branded? Ought not their hands to be against every one but their own race? What is the Arab but the pirate of the desert—the sea of sand? Black is the colour for pirates. Even the white pirates feel the truth of this, or why do they hoist theblackflag?”“At all events, it’s a profession that seldom ends well.”“And what matter does that make? We can die but once—I care not how soon. I have not found life so very sweet as to care for it, I assure you. Cato, there is but one thing sweet in existence—one feeling that never clogs and never tires, and that is revenge.”“Are not love and friendship sweet? I certainly know nothing about the first.”“I know no more than you do of it. They say friendship is the more lasting; and as a proof of how lasting that is I snapped my pistol at you, and, had it not missed fire, should have killed the only one for whom I ever felt friendship in this world.”“That’s a bad habit you have of carrying your pistols at all times; they are too handy, and give no time or reflection. Only suppose, now, you had blown out my brains, you would have been very sorry.”“Cato, I have many lives on my hands, and hope to have many more before I die. I never have repented one act of my life—a murder, as you may call it—and I never shall. But I tell you frankly, that had I destroyed you in my passion I should have been a miserable man. I know it; I feel it.”“Let’s say no more about it: that I’m just as glad as you are that you did not kill me, I assure you most positively. Here’s José coming with the dinner.”Here ended our conversation, which I have given just to show the peculiar disposition of this extraordinary man, with whom I had become domesticated. Verily and truly was I, as he said, “like a little dog in the cage of a tiger,” and, from familiarity: just as bold as dogs become under such peculiar circumstances.Before morning we were again at anchor in the Rendezvous Bay, and the tents were pitched as before. We remained there for more than a fortnight, during which my intimacy with the captain was even greater than before. He appeared to endeavour to do all in his power to restore my confidence in him, and he succeeded. Still, I must say, that I began to be weary of this sort of life. My dreams were ever of murder and bloodshed; and more than once I felt inclined to make my escape: but I had promised, and the remembrance of my promise prevented me.One afternoon the man on the look-out made the usual signal for a vessel in sight. Vincent went up immediately, and I followed him. It was a schooner, very long, with very taut, raking masts. Vincent examined her for some time, and then gave me the glass, and asked me what I thought of her. I replied, that I thought she was a man-of-war schooner.“You are right,” said he, “I know her well; it is the Arrow, and she has come out to cruise for me. This is the third time that she has been sent after me. Once we exchanged a few broadsides, but another man-of-war hove in sight, and I was compelled to leave her. She shall not accuse me of running from her, now that she is alone, and by to-morrow morning I will give her the opportunity of making the report of my capture if she can; but if I capture her, you may guess the rest.”We remained till nearly sunset watching the motions of the schooner. Vincent then went down the hill to give orders for sailing, leaving me with the glass. I again directed it to the schooner, and perceived that she was making signals.Then she is not alone, thought I; and Vincent may not capture her quite so easily as he expects. I looked in vain for the other vessel; I could not see her; I therefore concluded that she must be somewhere under the land, and hidden by it from my sight.The signals were repeated till dusk when I went down the hill, and found that all was bustle and activity, Vincent superintending himself the preparations for sailing. I did not interrupt him to tell him that I had perceived the schooner making signals. I had an idea, somehow or another, that I should regain my liberty, and was as anxious as Vincent that the Stella should be under weigh.Before ten o’clock everything was ready. Vincent had told his men that the English man-of-war schooner was outside, and that he intended to fight her; the men appeared delighted at the proposal, and as resolute and determined as men should be.As soon as the Stella was clear of the bay, everything was got ready for action, and I must say that nothing could be more rapid or more quiet than their movements. We stood out until we had gained an offing of five miles, and then made a reach along the shore towards the Havannah.As soon as the Stella had laid her head towards the Havannah, Vincent came down below. I had latterly slept on one of the cabin sofas, but had this night remained with my clothes on, for I was not sure that we might not be in action before the morning.The Arrow had gained the knowledge that our Rendezvous Bay was somewhere about the east end of the island, and had cruised accordingly, but could not discover it.Vincent threw himself on the other sofa, and I pretended to asleep; as I did not wish to enter into conversation with him was too much occupied with my own thoughts, and felt that there would be nothing in common between us at such a moment. He was very soon asleep, and he talked in his sleep. He was evidently in action, and gave his orders, every now and then speaking a few words aloud, and then it appeared as if he had taken the English schooner, and that he was fulfilling his vows of retaliation. I shuddered as I heard the half-broken menaces—the exulting laugh which occasionally burst from his lips. I arose and watched him as he slept; his hands were continually in motion, and his fists clenched, and he smiled. Merciful Heaven! what a tale of savage cruelty that smile foretold if he were successful! I knelt down and prayed that he might be foiled in his endeavours. As I rose I heard a noise and talking on deck, and one of the mates came down in the cabin.“How does she bear?” cried Vincent, starting up from his couch, as if he instinctively knew what was to be told.“Two points on the weather bow, captain,” replied the negro. “I think she has her foresheet to windward.”“What’s the time?”“One bell in the morning watch; it will be daylight in an hour.”“Very good. How far is she off?”“About four miles.”“Pipe to quarters; I will be up directly.”Vincent took down his sword and buckled on his belt; then his pistols, which after having examined the primings, he fixed in his girdle. I still remained as if asleep, and as he was going out of the cabin, he turned to me. “He sleeps, poor boy; well, why should I wake him?—the guns will rouse him up soon enough.” So saying, he went on deck.I considered what I should do. To be on deck was hardly safe for me as a white person; and, indeed, what business had I there? Why should I expose myself to the shot of my countrymen, or run the risk of losing my life from the rage of the negroes? I therefore resolved on remaining where I was—at all events, for the present.The negroes now came into the cabin, for the after-magazine was under the forepart of it. The hatch was taken up, the screens let down, and all was dark. I had nothing to do but to catch now and then the commands given by the negro captain, and draw my inference as to what was taking place.Although for the first half-hour I gained little information, after that time had elapsed I knew what was going on. I heard a voice hailing us from another vessel, and the reply of the Stella was a broadside. There could be no mistake in that. The Stella was then put about, and the other broadside given without a return from her opponent. At last it came, and as the shot whizzed over or tore up the planking of the gunwales, I certainly did feel very strangely. I had never been in action before, and the sensation was, I confess, that of alarm; but it was so mingled with curiosity as to what was going on, that it was impossible to say what my feelings were. I longed to be on deck, and certainly would have been, if I had thought that I was safe with the pirate crew: that alone prevented me; I remained, therefore, in a most unpleasant state of ignorance and suspense.The broadsides were now exchanged rapidly and the wounded, brought down between decks every minute, told me that the action was severe. The orders of the negro captain were occasionally heard—they were cool and determined. Every minute some fresh manoeuvre was executed, and the guns still worked as if there was nothing else to attend to. At last, the daylight came down the hatchway, and I left the cabin and walked forward between decks; I found the deck strewed with wounded and dying men, calling for water. I was glad to be able to do something which I could consistently do, and I brought water from the cask and gave it to them, one after another, as fast as I could; I think there were at least thirty men lying about the lower deck, some in pools of their own blood, and sinking fast, for there was no surgeon on board of the Stella.Some more wounded men were brought down, and a conversation took place between one of the mates of the schooner, who was hurt, and the men who brought down the wounded, and listening to them, I found that at daylight they had discovered that an English frigate was under all sail, beating up to them, and about five miles to leeward; that in consequence, the Stella was now carrying on a running fight with the schooner (who was to windward of her), and trying to escape. This accounted for the signals which I had perceived that the English schooner was making the evening before. My anxiety at this intelligence was naturally much increased. The Stella was trying to escape, and her sailing powers were so remarkable, that I was afraid she would succeed.The action was still continued between the two schooners, but now the shot no longer hit the Stella, nor were there any more wounded men brought down; it was evident that the two vessels were now firing at each other’s masts and rigging, the one to prevent, and the other to effect her escape, by dismantling her antagonist. I felt as if I could have given my left hand to have gone on deck. I waited half an hour more, and then, curiosity conquering my fear, I crept gradually up the fore ladder. The men were working the guns to windward, the lee-side of the deck was clear, and I stepped forward, and got into the head, where I could see both to windward and to leeward. To leeward I perceived the frigate about four miles distant with every stretch of canvass that she could set on a wind; I knew her directly to be the Calliope, my own ship, and my heart beat quick at the chance of being once more on board of her.To windward, as the smoke occasionally cleared away, I saw the Arrow schooner close hauled on the same tack as the Stella, and distant about a mile, every ten seconds the smoke from her guns booming along the water’s surface, and the shot whizzing through our rigging; she had not suffered much from our fire: her sails were full of shot-holes, it is true, but her spars were not injured. I then turned my eyes upon the masts and rigging of the Stella: apparently, the damage done was about equal to that received by the Arrow; our sails were torn, but our spars were unscathed.The water was smooth, although the breeze was fresh, and both schooners were running at the rate of six or seven miles an hour; but the Stella had evidently the advantage of sailing, and fore-reached upon her opponent. I perceived that everything depended upon a lucky hit and having satisfied myself with what I had seen, I hastened down below.For more than half an hour the firing continued without advantage on either side, when a yell was given by the negro crew, and I heard them cry on the deck that the Arrow’s foretop-mast was shot away. I heard the voice of Vincent cheering his men, and telling them to be steady in their aim. My heart sunk at the intelligence, and I sat down on a chest.The firing now slackened, for the Stella had shot ahead of the English schooner, and the negroes on deck were laughing and in high good-humour. For a few minutes the firing ceased altogether, and I took it for granted that the Stella had left her pursuers far behind; when of a sudden, a whole broadside of guns were poured into us, and there was a terrible crashing and confusion on the deck.I ran up the ladder to see what had happened. It appeared that as the Stella was crossing the bows of the Arrow, the latter had, as a last chance thrown up in the wind, and discharged her whole broadside into us: two shots had struck our mainmast, which had fallen by the board. I perceived at once that the Stella’s chance was over—nothing could save her; she might resist the schooner but could not escape the frigate.I ran down below, and went into the cabin; I was afraid that the negroes might perceive the joy in my countenance. I heard the angry voice of the negro captain—I heard him stamping with rage, and I thanked God that I was not by his side. The wreck of the mast was soon cleared away; I heard him address his negroes, point out to them that it was better to die like men at the guns, than swing at the yard-arm like dogs. Some of them came down and took on deck a quarter-cask of spirits, which was plentifully supplied to all.The English schooner had borne down upon us, and the action now commenced at pistol-shot. Never shall I forget what took place for nearly three-quarters of an hour; the negroes, most of them intoxicated, fought with rage and fury indescribable—their shouts—their screams—their cursing and blasphemy, mingled with the loud report of the guns, the crashing of the spars and bulwarks, the occasional cry of the wounded, and the powerful voice of Vincent. It was terrific between decks; the smoke was so thick, that those who came down for the powder could not see, but felt their way to the screen. Every two seconds, I heard the men come aft, toss off the can of liquor, and throw it on the deck, hen they went to resume their labour at their guns.At the end of the time I have mentioned, the shot flew from to leeward, as well as from to windward: the frigate had got within range, and was pouring in her broadside; still the firing and the shouting on the deck of the Stella continued, but the voices were fewer; and as the firing of the frigate became more severe, they became fainter and fainter; and at last but an occasional gun was fired from our decks.I became so uneasy, that I could remain where I was no longer; I went forward on the lower deck again, and tumbling over the wounded and the dead, I crept up the fore-ladder. I looked over the coamings of the hatchway; the decks were clear of smoke, for not a gun was being fired. Merciful Heaven! what a scene of slaughter! Many of the guns were dismantled, and the decks were strewed with the splinters and plankings of the gunwale, broken spars, and negroes lying dead, or drunk, in all directions—some cut and torn to pieces, others whole, but mixed up with the fragments of other bodies: such a scene of blood I have never since witnessed. Out of the whole crew, I do not think there were twenty men left unhurt, and these were leaning or lying down, exhausted with fatigue or overcome with liquor, on various parts of the deck.The fighting was over; there was not one man at his gun—and of those who remained still alive, one or two fell, while I was looking up from the shot, which continued every minute to pierce the bulwarks. Where was Vincent? I dare not go aft to see. I dare not venture to meet his eye. I dived down below again, and I returned aft to the cabin; there was no more demand for powder; not a soul was to be seen abaft. Suddenly the after-hatchway grating was thrown off; I heard some one descend; I knew it was the hurried tread of the negro captain. It was so dark, and the cabin so full of smoke, that, coming from the light, he did not perceive me, although I could distinguish him. He was evidently badly wounded, and tottered in his walk: he came into the cabin, put his hand to his girdle, and felt for his pistol, and then he commenced pulling down the screen, which was between him and the magazine. His intentions were evident; which were to blow up the vessel.I felt that I had not a moment to lose. I dashed past him, ran up the ladder, sprung aft to the taffrail, and dashed over the stern into the sea. I was still beneath the surface, having not yet risen from my plunge, when I heard and felt the explosion—felt it, indeed, so powerfully, that it almost took away my senses; so great was the shock, even when I was under the water, that I was almost insensible. I have a faint recollection of being drawn down by the vortex of the sinking vessel, and scrambling my way to the surface of the water, amidst fragments of timbers and whirling bodies. When I recovered myself, I found that I was clinging to a portion of the wreck, in a sort of patch, as it were, upon the deep blue water, dark as ink, and strewed with splintered fragments.There I remained some minutes, during which time I gained my recollection: I looked around and perceived the Arrow schooner, lying about one hundred yards off, totally dismantled, and my own frigate about a quarter of a mile to leeward, as bright and as fresh as if she had just been refitted. I observed a signal, made by the Calliope to the schooner, which was answered. I looked in vain towards the schooner, expecting her to lower down a boat. The fact was, that the Calliope had made the signal for her to do so, and the schooner had replied that she had no boat that could swim. I then perceived that the frigate had lowered down a boat which was pulling towards me, and I considered myself as safe.In a few minutes, during which I had quite recovered myself, the boat pulled into the mass of floating fragments, and then the sailors ceased rowing to look about them. They perceived and pulled towards me—hoisted me in over the gunwale, and laid me at the bottom of the boat. I scrambled on my feet, and would have goneaft, when the midshipman of the boat said to the men, “Pass that cursed young pirate forward—don’t let him come aft here.”“Oh, oh, Mr Lascelles,” thinks I—“so you don’t know me; you shall know me by-and-by.” I quite forgot that I was stained black, till one of the men who seized me by the collar to pass me forward, said, “Hand along the nigger. He’s a young one for the gallows, any how.”They handed me forward, and I did not choose to say who I was. My love of fun returned the moment that I was again with my shipmates. After looking well round and ascertaining that I was the only one left alive, they pulled back to the frigate; and the midshipman went up to report. I was handed up the side and remained at the break of the gangway, while the captain and first lieutenant were talking with Mr Lascelles: during which Mr Tommy Dott came up to me, and, putting his finger to his left ear, gave a cluck with his tongue, as much as to say, “You’ll be hanged, my good fellow.”I could not help giving the first mason’s sign which I taught to Mr Green in return for Tommy’s communication; to wit, putting my thumb to my nose, and extending my finger out towards him; at which Tommy Dott expressed much indignation, and called me a precious impudent varmin. The men who were near us laughed, and said that I was game at all events. No one knew me; for not only was my face well stained, but I was covered from head to foot with a solution of salt water and gunpowder, which made me still more indistinguishable.I had remained at the gangway about two minutes, when the first lieutenant said, “Bring the prisoner here.”I immediately went aft; and as soon as I was standing before Captain Delmar and the first lieutenant—(and behind were all the officers, anxious to hear what I had to disclose)—I put my hand to my head, having no hat, as may be supposed, and said, “Come on board, sir,” reporting myself, as is usually the custom of officers when they return from leave or duty.“Good Heavens! that voice!—why, who are you?” cried Captain Delmar, starting back a pace.“Mr Keene, sir,” replied I, again putting my hand to my head.Bob Cross, who was, with many of the seamen, close to me, quite forgetting etiquette, ran up and caught me round the waist, looking me full in the face: “It is him, sir—it is him! Huzzah! huzzah!” and all the seamen joined in the huzzahs, which were, however, mingled with a great deal of laughter.“Merciful Heaven! and so you have been blown up in that vessel,” said the first lieutenant, coming to me, with great kindness. “Are you much burnt? Why, he’s quite black—where’s the surgeon?”“Aren’t hurt at all, sir,” replied I.“Let him be taken down and examined,” said the captain with some emotion; “if not hurt, let him come into the cabin to me.”The captain went down the ladder, and then I shook hands with Tommy Dott and all the other officers and midshipmen; and I will say that my re-appearance appeared to give unusual satisfaction. I went down into the gun-room and was stripped. They were much surprised to find that I was not hurt, and even more when they discovered that I was black all over, and that washing would not restore my colour.“Why, Keene,” said the first lieutenant, “how is it that you have changed your colour?”“Oh, sir, I’ve been playing the nigger for these last three months. It is a long story, but I will go with you to the captain, and I will tell it there.”As soon as I had put on my uniform, I went up with Mr Hippesley to the cabin, and having, at the captain’s request, taken a chair, I entered into a full explanation, which lasted more than an hour.As soon as I had finished, Mr Hippesley who had plenty to do on deck, but who could not leave until he had heard my story, quitted the cabin, and I found myself alone with the captain.“I must say that I gave you up for lost,” said Captain Delmar; “the boat’s crew were picked up the next morning, and reported that you were drowned in the cabin of the vessel. Scoundrels, to desert you in that way.”“I do not think they were to blame, sir; the water being so high in the cabin, and my not answering to their call.”“But did they call you?”“Yes, sir; I heard them call when I was half asleep, and I did not answer.”“Well, I am glad to hear you say so; but so convinced have we been of your loss, that I have written to your mother on the subject. Strange, this is the second time that she has been distressed in this way. You appear to have a charmed life, Mr Keene.”“I hope I shall long live to do credit to your protection, sir,” replied I.“I hope so too, Mr Keene,” replied the captain, very kindly; “I sincerely hope so too. In all this business you have conducted yourself very manfully. It does you great credit, and your mother ought to be proud of you.”“Thanky, sir,” replied I, for I was overjoyed at such language from Captain Delmar, and I thought to myself, if he says my mother ought be proud of me, he feels so himself.“Of course, you cannot do duty under such a masquerade as you are at present,” continued the captain, who referred to my stained skin. “I presume it will wear off by-and-by. You will dine with me to-day; now you may go to your messmates.”I left the cabin, bowing very respectfully, and pleased with what had occurred. I hastened to join my messmates, not, however, until I had shaken hands with Bob Cross, who appeared as delighted to see me as if he was my father.I leave the reader to imagine the sort of levee which I held both on the quarter-deck and below. Mr Hippesley could not get any of the officers to mind their duty. I certainly was for two or three days the greatest personage in the ship. After that, I had time to tell the whole of my history quietly to Bob Cross.Bob Cross, when he had heard me without interruption, said, “Well, Master Keene, there’s no telling what a man’s born to till after he’s dead, and then it’s all known: but it does appear to me that you are born to something out of the common. Here you are, not sixteen, not only playing a man’s part, but playing it manfully. You have been put in most difficult situations, and always have fallen upon your feet in the end. You appear to have an old head upon very young shoulders; at one moment to be a scampish boy full of mischief, and at another a resolute, cool, and clever man. Sarcumstances, they say, make men, and so it appears in you; but it does seem strange for one and the same lad to be stealing the purser’s plums at one moment, and twisting a devil of a nigger pirate round his finger the very next; and then you have had such escapes—twice reported dead at head-quarters, and twice come to life again. Now Master Keene, I’ve very good news to tell you: you don’t know how high you stand with the captain and officers: there’s a feeling of envy against a lad who goes ahead (as well as a man) which blinds people to his real merits; but when he is supposed to be dead and gone, and no longer in the way of others, then every one tells the real truth; and I do assure you that not only the officers, but the captain himself, grieved most sorely at your loss. I saw the captain’s eyes wink more than once when speaking of you, and the first lieutenant was always telling the other mids that he had not one worth his salt, now that you were gone. And now that you have come back and gained so much credit for what has passed, I do really think that the captain is proud of you. I overheard a little conversation between the captain and first lieutenant the day you came on board, after you had been in the cabin telling your adventures, and all that I can say is, that the game is in your own hands, if you only play your cards well, and never let Captain Delmar have the least idea that you know that you have such claims upon him.”“That I certainly will not,” replied I, “as it might check his feeling towards me.”“Exactly: I’ve often thought about you, and now that I like you so much, I watch the captain for your sake, and listen particularly to what he says after dinner especially, when I’ve the opportunity; for you see, when gentlemen drink wine, they speak more freely as to what they really think, just as we foremast-men do when we get our grog on board. The greatest misfortune which could happen to you in your position would be, the captain marrying and having children on the right side of the blanket as they call it. Now I’ve often heard the captain express a dislike to matrimony, and laugh at people’s getting married, which has pleased me very much for your sake, Master Percival. You see, a man don’t think much of marrying after forty, and the captain must be fifty, if not more.”“Yes: but if his brother dies—and he is a very infirm man—the captain will then be Viscount de Versely, and inherit very large estates, and then he will marry to have an heir to the title and estates even if there is no love in the case.”“So he may,” replied Cross—“there’s no saying; but still, even if he does, it ain’t certain that he has a family; chickens must not be counted before they are hatched. All you have to pray for then is, that the brother may prove as tough as our old admirals, whose senses get tired of staying any longer in their bodies, and leave them long before their hulks are worn out.”“Why do admirals live so long?”“Well, I suppose it is for the same reason that salt meat keeps so much longer than fresh; they have been forty or fifty years with the salt spray washing in their faces and wetting their jackets, and so in time, d’ye see, they become as it were pickled with brine. Talking about that, how long will it be before you get that tanning off you?”“I don’t know; but as the captain says I’m to do no duty while it lasts, I hope it won’t wear off too soon.”“Spoken like a midshipman: now take my advice, although not ordered to your duty, come up on deck and take your spy-glass.”“I’ve lost it, unfortunately. That was a good glass, for it saved my life.”“Yes, it turned out as good for you as a Freemason’s sign, which is more than Mr Green can say. I don’t think he’ll ever make a sailor—he’d better bear up for clerk, and then he might do very well for a purser by-and-by. There’s eight bells, Master Keene, so I think we had better say good night.”

The next morning, when we arrived at Funchal, we found that our orders were for the West Indies: we stayed one day to take in wine and then hove up the anchor, and went on to our destination. We soon got into the trades, and run them fast down till we arrived at Carlisle Bay, Barbadoes, where we found the admiral and delivered our despatches. We were ordered to water and complete as soon as possible, as we were to be sent on a cruise.

Tommy Dott, my quondam ally, was in disgrace. He had several times during the cruise proposed that I should join him in several plots of mischief, but I refused, as I did not consider them quite safe.

“You are not the keen fellow I thought you were,” said he; “you are up to nothing now; there’s no fun in you, as there used to be.”

He was mistaken; there was fun in me, but there was also prudence, and from what I had latterly seen of Tommy Dott, I did not think he was to be trusted.

The day after we anchored at Carlisle Bay, Tommy came to me and said, “Old Culpepper serves out plums and suet this afternoon; I heard him tell steward. Now, I think we may manage to get some—I never saw better plums on board of a ship.”

“Well,” said I, “I like raisins as well as you do, Tommy—but what is your plan?”

“Why, I’ve got my squirt: and old Culpepper never lights more than one of his purser’s dips (small candles) in the steward’s room. I’ll get down in the cockpit in the dark, and squirt at the candle—the water will put it out, and he’ll send the steward for another light, and then I’ll try and get some.”

It was not a bad plan, but still I refused to join in it, as it was only the work of one person, and not two. I pointed that out to him and he agreed with me, saying that he would do it himself.

When Mr Culpepper went down into the steward’s room, Tommy reconnoitred, and then came into the berth and filled his squirt.

Although I would not join him, I thought I might as well see what was going on and therefore descended the cockpit ladder soon after Tommy, keeping out of the way in the foremost part of the cockpit, where it was quite dark.

Tommy directed his squirt very dexterously, hit the lighted wick of the solitary candle, which fizzed, sputtered, and finally gave up the ghost.

“Bless me!” said Mr Culpepper, “what can that be?”

“A leak from the seams above I suppose,” said the steward:

“I will go to the gallery for another light.”

“Yes, yes, be quick,” said Mr Culpepper, who remained in the steward’s room in the dark, until the return of the steward.

Tommy Dott then slipped in softly, and commenced filling all his pockets with the raisins; he had nearly taken in his full cargo, when, somehow or another, Mr Culpepper stepped forward from where he stood, and he touched Tommy, whom he immediately seized crying out, “Thieves! thieves!—call the sentry!—sentry, come here.”

The sentry of the gun-room door went down the ladder as Mr Culpepper dragged out Tommy, holding him fast by both hands.

“Take him, sentry—take him in charge. Call the master-at-arms—little thief. Mr Dott! Hah—well, we’ll see.”

The consequence was, that Mr Tommy Dott was handed from the sentry to the master-at-arms, and taken up on the quarterdeck, followed by Mr Culpepper and his steward.

There was no defence or excuse to be made: the pockets of his jacket and of his trowsers were stuffed with raisins; and at the bottom of his pocket, when they were emptied by the master-at-arms, was found the squirt.

As soon as the hue and cry was over, and all the parties were on the quarter-deck, as the coast was clear, I thought I might as well take advantage of it; and therefore I came out from my hiding-place, went into the steward’s room, filled my handkerchief with raisins, and escaped to the berth unperceived; so that while Tommy Dott was disgorging on the quarter-deck, I was gorging below.

Mr Dott was reported to the captain for this heinous offence; and, in consequence, was ordered below under arrest, his place in the captain’s gig being filled up by me; so that in every point of view Tommy suffered, and I reaped the harvest. What pleased me most was, that, being midshipman of the captain’s boat, I was of course continually in the company of the coxswain, Bob Cross.

But I must not delay at present, as I have to record a very serious adventure which occurred, and by which I, for a long while, was separated from my companions and shipmates.

In ten days we sailed in search of a pirate vessel, which was reported to have committed many dreadful excesses, and had become the terror of the mercantile navy. Our orders were to proceed northward, and to cruise off the Virgin Islands, near which she was said to have been last seen.

About three weeks after we had left Carlisle Bay, the look-out man reported two strange sail from the mast-head. I was sent up, as signal mid, to examine them, and found that they were both schooners, hove to close together; one of them very rakish in their appearance. All sail in chase was made immediately, and we came up within three miles of them, when one, evidently the pirate we were in search of, made sail, while the other remained hove to.

As we passed the vessel hove to, which we took it for granted was a merchantman, which the pirate had been plundering, the captain ordered one of the cutters to be lowered down with a midshipman and boat’s crew to take possession of her. The men were all in the boat, but the midshipman had gone down for his spy-glass, or something else, and as it was merely with a view of ascertaining what the vessel was, and the chief object was to overtake the pirate vessel, to prevent the delay which was caused by the other midshipman not being ready, Mr Hippesley ordered me to go into the boat instead of him, and, as soon as I was on board of the schooner, to make sail and follow the frigate.

The captain did say, “He is too young, Mr Hippesley; is he not?”

“I’d sooner trust him than many older, sir,” was the reply of the first lieutenant. “Jump in, Mr Keene.” I did so, with my telescope in my hand. “Lower away, my lads—unhook, and sheer off;” and away went the frigate in pursuit of the pirate vessel, leaving me in the boat, to go on board of the schooner.

We were soon alongside, and found that there was not a soul on board of the vessel; what had become of the crew, whether they had been murdered, or not, it was impossible to say, but there were a few drops of blood on the deck.

The vessel was an American, bound to one of the islands, with shingle and fir planks; not only was her hold full, but the fir planks were piled up on each side of the deck, between the masts, to the height of five or six feet. The pirate had, apparently, been taking some of the planks on board for her own use.

We dropped the boat astern, let draw the foresheet, and made sail after the frigate, which was now more than a mile from us, and leaving us very fast.

The schooner was so over-loaded that she sailed very badly, and before the evening closed in, we could just perceive the top-gallant sails of the Calliope above the horizon: but this we thought little of, as we knew that as soon as she had captured the pirate she would run back again, and take us out.

There were some hams and other articles on board, for the pirates had not taken everything, although the lockers had been all broken open, and the articles were strewed about in every direction in the cabin and on the deck.

Just before dark, we took the bearings of the frigate, and stood the same course as she was doing, and then we sat down to a plentiful meal to which we did justice. I then divided the boat’s crew into watches, went down into the cabin, and threw myself on the standing bed-place, of which there was but one, with all my clothes on; the men who had not the watch went down, and turned in in the cuddy forward, where the seamen usually sleep.

It was not till past midnight that I could obtain any sleep; the heat was excessive, and I was teased by the cockroaches, which appeared to swarm in the cabin to an incredible degree, and were constantly running over my face and body. I little thought then why they swarmed. I recollect that I dreamt of murder, and tossing men overboard; and then of the vessel being on fire and after that, I felt very cool and comfortable, and I dreamed no more; I thought that I heard a voice calling my name: it appeared that I did hear it in my sleep, but I slept on.

At last I turned round, and felt a splashing as of water, and some water coming into my mouth: I awoke. All was dark and quiet; I put my hand out, and I put it into the water—where was I—was I overboard? I jumped up in my fright; I found that was still on the standing bed-place, but the water was above the mattress.

I immediately comprehended that the vessel was sinking, and I called out, but there was no reply.

I turned out of the bed-place, and found myself up to my neck in water, with my feet on the cabin-deck. Half swimming, and half floundering, I gained the ladder, and went up the hatchway.

It was still quite dark, and I could not perceive nor hear anybody. I called out but there was no reply. I then was certain that the men had left the vessel when they round her sinking, and had left me to sink with her. I may as well here observe, that when the men had found the water rising upon them forward they had rushed on deck in a panic, telling the man at the wheel that the vessel was sinking, and had immediately hauled up the boat to save their lives; but they did recollect me, and the coxswain of the boat had come down in the cabin by the ladder, and called me: but the cabin was full of water, and he, receiving no answer, considered that I was drowned, and returned on deck.

The boat had then shoved off, and I was left to my fate; still I hoped that such was not the case, and I hallooed again and again, but in vain, and I thought it was all over with me. It was a dreadful position to be in. I said my prayers and prepared to die, and yet I thought it was hard to die at fifteen years old.

Although I do not consider that my prayers were of much efficacy, for there was but little resignation in them, praying had one good effect—it composed me, and I began to think whether there was any chance of being saved.

Yes, there were plenty of planks on the deck, and if it were daylight I could tie them together and make a raft, which would bear me up. How I longed for daylight, for I was afraid that the vessel would sink before I could see to do what was requisite. The wind had become much fresher during the night, and the waves now dashed against the sides of the water-logged vessel.

As I watched for daylight, I began to reflect how this could have happened; and it occurred to me that the pirates had scuttled the bottom of the vessel to sink her; and in this conjecture I was right.

At last a faint light appeared in the east, which soon broke into broad day, and I lost no time in setting about my work.

Before I began, however, I thought it advisable to ascertain how much more water there was in the vessel since I had quitted the cabin which it appeared to me must have been about two hours. I therefore went down in the cabin to measure it. I know how high it was when I waded through it. I found, to my surprise, and, I may say, to my joy, that it was not higher than it was before.

I thought that perhaps I might be mistaken, so I marked the height of the water at the cabin ladder, and I sat down on deck to watch it; it appeared to me not to rise any higher.

This made me reflect, and it then struck me that, as the vessel was laden with timber, she would not probably sink any lower, so I deferred my work till I had ascertained the fact.

Three hours did I watch, and found that the water did not rise higher, and I was satisfied; but the wind increased, and the vessel’s sails, instead of flapping to the wind as she drove without any one at the helm, were now bellied out, and the vessel careened to leeward.

I was afraid that she would turn over; and finding an axe on the deck, I mounted the rigging with it, and commenced cutting away the lacing of the sails from the mast. I then lowered the gaffs, and cleared away the canvass in the same way, so that the sails fell on the deck. This was a work of at least one hour; but when the canvass was off, the vessel was steady.

It was well that I had taken this precaution; for very soon afterwards the wind was much fresher, and the weather appeared very threatening; the sea also rose considerably. I was very tired, and sat down for some time on the deck abaft.

It then occurred to me that the weight of the planks upon the deck must not only keep the vessel deeper in the water, but make her more top-heavy, and I determined to throw them overboard; but first I looked for something to eat, and found plenty of victuals in the iron pot in which the men had cooked their supper the night before.

As soon as I had obtained from the cask lashed on the deck a drink of water, to wash down the cold fried ham which I had eaten, I set work to throw overboard the planks on deck.

When I had thrown over a portion from one side I went to the other, and threw over as many more, that I might, as much as possible, keep the vessel on an even keel.

This job occupied me the whole of the day; and when I had completed my task I examined the height of the water at the cabin ladder, and found that the vessel had risen more than six inches. This was a source of great comfort to me, and what pleased me more was, that the wind had gone down again, and the water was much smoother.

I made a supper off some raw ham, for the fire had been extinguished, and committing myself to the protection of Heaven, lay down as the sun set, and from the fatigue of the day was soon in a sound sleep.

I awoke about the middle of the night. The stars shone brightly, and there was but a slight ripple on the water.

I thought of my mother, of my aunt Milly, of Captain Delmar, and I felt for the seal-skin pouch which was fastened round my neck. It was all safe.

I calculated chances, and I made up my mind that I should be picked up by some vessel or another before long.

I said to myself—“Why, I am better off now than I was when in the wherry, with Peggy Pearson; I was saved then, why should I not be now?”

I felt no desponding, and lay down, and was soon fast asleep.

It was broad daylight when I awoke; I took my spy-glass, and looking round the horizon, discovered a vessel several miles off, standing towards me. This gave me fresh spirits.

I made a raw breakfast, and drank plenty of water as before. The wind, which was very light, increased a little. The vessel came nearer, and I made her out to be a schooner. In two hours she was close to me, and I waved my hat, and hallooed as loud as I could.

The schooner was full of men, and steered close to me—she was a beautiful craft, and, although the wind was so light, glided very fast through the water, and I could not help thinking that she was the pirate vessel which the frigate had been in chase of.

It appeared as if they intended to pass me, and I hallooed, “Schooner, ahoy! Why don’t you send a boat on board?”

I must say, that when the idea struck me that she was a pirate vessel, my heart almost failed me.

Shortly afterwards the schooner rounded to and lowered a boat, which pulled to the vessel. The boat’s crew were all negroes.

One of them said, “Jump in, you white boy; next jump he take be into the shark’s mouth,” continued the man, grinning, as he addressed himself to the others in the boat.

I got into the boat, and they rowed on board the schooner. I did then think that I was done for; for what mercy could I expect, being a king’s officer, from pirates, which the words of the negro convinced me they were?

As soon as I was alongside of the schooner, they ordered me to go up the side, which I did, with my spy-glass in my hand. I leaped from the gunwale down on the deck, and found myself on board of an armed vessel, with a crew wholly composed of blacks.

I was rudely seized by two of them, who led me aft to where a negro stood apart from the rest. A more fierce, severe, determined-looking countenance, I never beheld. He was gigantic in stature and limbed like the Farnesian Hercules.

“Well, boy, who are you?” said he, “and how came you on board of that vessel?”

I told him in very few words.

“Then you belong to that frigate that chased us the day before yesterday?”

“Yes,” replied I.

“What is her name?”

“The Calliope.”

“She sails well,” said he.

“Yes,” replied I; “she is the fastest sailer on this station.”

“That’s all the information I want of you, boy: now you may go.”

“Go where?” replied I.

“Go where?—go overboard, to be sure,” replied he, with a grin.

My heart died within me; but I mustered courage enough to say, “Much obliged to you, sir; but I’d rather stay where I am, if it’s all the same to you.”

The other negroes laughed at this reply, and I felt a little confidence; at all events, their good-humour gave me courage, and I felt that being bold was my only chance.

The negro captain looked at me for a time, as if considering, and at last said to the men, “Overboard with him.”

“Good-bye, sir, you’re very kind,” said I; “but this is a capital spy-glass, and I leave it to you as a legacy.” And I went up to him and offered him my spy-glass. Merciful Heaven! bow my heart beat against my ribs when I did this!

The negro captain took the glass, and looked through it.

“It is a good glass,” said he, as he removed it from his eyes. It was poor Green’s spy-glass, which he had given me for showing him the mason’s signs.

“Well, white boy, I accept your present; and now, good bye.”

“Good-bye, sir. Do me one kindness in return,” said I, very gravely, for I felt my hour was come.

“And what is that?” replied the negro.

“Tie a shot to my heels, that I may sink quickly; it won’t take them long.”

“You don’t ask me to spare your life, then?” replied the negro.

“He de very first white dat not ask it,” said one of the negroes.

“Dat really for true,” said another.

“Yes, by gum,” replied a third.

Oh, how I wished to know what to say at that moment! The observations of the negroes made me imagine that I had better notaskfor it and yet how I clung to life! It was an awful moment—I felt as if I had lived a year in a few minutes. For a second or two I felt faint and giddy—I drew a long breath and revived.

“You don’t answer me, boy,” said the negro captain.

“Why should I ask when I feel certain to be refused? If you will give me my life, I will thank you: I don’t particularly wish to die, I can assure you.”

“I have taken an oath never to spare a white man. For once I am sorry that I cannot break my oath.”

“If that is all, I am a boy, and not a man,” replied I. “Keep me till I grow bigger.”

“By golly, captain, that very well said. Keep him, captain,” said one of the negroes.

“Yes, captain,” replied another; “keep him to tend your cabin. Proper you have white slave boy.”

The negro captain for some time made no reply; he appeared to be in deep thought. At last he said—

“Boy, you have saved your life: you may thank yourself and not me. Prossa, let him be taken below; give him a frock and trousers and throw that infernal dress overboard, or I may change my resolution.”

The negro who was addressed, and who wore a sort of uniform as an officer—which he was, being second mate—led me below,—nothing loth, I can assure my readers.

When I was between decks. I sat down upon a chest, my head swam, and I fainted. The shock had been too powerful for a lad of my age. They brought water, and recovered me. When I revived, I felt that I might have lost in their good opinion by thus knowing my weakness; and I had sufficient presence of mind to ask for something to eat. This deceived them; they said to one another that I must have been on board that vessel for two days without food, and of course I did not deny it.

They brought me some meat and some grog. I ate and drank a little. They then took off my uniform, and put on me a check frock and white trousers; after which, I said I wished to lie down a little, and they left me to sleep on the chest where I had been seated.

I pretended to sleep, although I could not; and I found out by their conversation that I gained the goodwill not only of the crew, but of the captain, by my behaviour.

I considered that I had gained my life, at least for the present; but what security could I have in such company?

After an hour or two I felt quite recovered, and I thought it advisable to go on deck. I did so, and went right aft to the negro captain, and stood before him.

“Well, boy,” said he, “why do you come to me?”

“You gave me my life; you’re the greatest friend I have here, so I come to you. Can I do anything?”

“Yes; you may assist in the cabin, if your white blood does not curdle at the idea of attending on a black man.”

“Not at all. I will do anything for them who are kind to me, as you have been.”

“And think it no disgrace?”

“Not the least. Is it a disgrace to be grateful?”

The reader will observe how particularly judicious my replies were, although but fifteen years old. My dangerous position had called forth the reflection and caution of manhood.

“Go down into the cabin; you may amuse yourself till I come.”

I obeyed this order. The cabin was fitted up equal to most yachts, with Spanish mahogany and gold mouldings; a beaufet full of silver (there was no glass) occupied nearly one-half of it; even the plates and dishes were of the same material. Silver candelabras hung down from the middle of the beams; a variety of swords, pistols, and other weapons were fixed up against the bulkhead; a small bookcase, chiefly of Spanish books, occupied the after-bulkhead, and the portraits of several white females filled up the intervals; a large table in the centre, a stand full of charts, half a dozen boxes of cigars, and two most luxurious sofas, completed the furniture.

A door from the starboard side led, I presumed, to the stateroom, where the captain slept; but I did not venture to open it.

I surveyed all this magnificence, wondering who this personage could be; and more still, how it was that the whole of the crew were, as well as the captain, of the negro race.

We had heard that the pirate we were in search of was a well-known character—a Spaniard—who went by the name of Chico, and that his crew consisted of Americans, English, and Spaniards. That this was the vessel, I knew, from the conversation of the men when I was below for they called her the Stella.

Now, it appeared that the vessel had changed masters; the crew were chiefly Spanish negroes, or other negroes who spoke Spanish, but some of them spoke English, and a few words of Spanish; these, I presumed, were American or English runaways. But the captain—his language was as correct as my own; Spanish he spoke fluently, for I heard him giving orders in that language while I was in the cabin; neither was he flat-nosed, like the majority. Had he been white, his features would have been considered regular, although there was a fierceness about them at times which was terrible to look at.

“Well,” thought I, “if I live and do well, I shall know more about it; yes, if I live, I wish I was on the quarterdeck of the Calliope, even as Tommy was with his pockets stuffed full of the purser’s raisins, and looking like a fool and a rogue at the same time.”

I had been down in the cabin about half an hour, when the negro captain made his appearance.

“Well,” said he, “I suppose you would as soon see the devil as me—eh, boy?”

“No: indeed,” replied I, laughing—for I had quite recovered my confidence—“for you were about to send me to the devil, and I feel most happy that I still remain with you.”

“You’re exactly the cut of boy I like,” replied he, smiling. “How I wish that you were black!—I detest your colour.”

“I have no objection to black my face, if you wish it,” replied I: “it’s all the same to me what colour I am.”

“How old are you?”

“I was fifteen a few months back.”

“How long have you been to sea?”

“About eighteen months.”

He then asked me a great many more questions, about the captain, the officers, the ship, and myself; to all of which I answered in a guarded way.

A negro brought down his supper; it was hot, and very savoury; without any order on his part, I immediately attended upon him during his meal. He told the negro not to wait and conversed with me during the time that he was eating: at last, he told me how he had doubled the frigate during the night. I then remarked that we had been informed that the vessel was called the Stella, that the captain’s name was Chico, and the crew were composed of white men of different nations.

“A month or two ago, it was the case,” replied the captain. “Now I have done, and you may clear away,” continued he, rising from his chair and throwing himself down on one of the sofas. “Stop; you are hungry, I don’t doubt; you can sit down and eat your supper, and remove the things afterwards.”

I did as he told me: it was the first time in my life I had supped off massive plate—but I was in strange company; however, it did not spoil my appetite, and I did not forget to drink a goblet of wine by way of washing down my repast.

“Thank you, sir,” said I, rising, and then performing my office of attendant.

At his order, I rang the bell for the negro, who assisted me in clearing away, and then went out with the remains of the supper.

“Am I to stay or go?” said I, respectfully.

“You may go now. Find the man who came in just now—José he is called; tell him to give you something to sleep upon.”

“Good-night, sir,” said I.

“Good-night, boy.”

As I went forward looking for the negro servant, I was accosted more than once very kindly by the negro seamen. At last I went up on the forecastle, and they asked me to tell them how I was left on board the schooner. I did so to those who spoke English, and one of them, who could speak both languages, translated into Spanish for the benefit of the others.

“You be first white he hab spared, I tell you,” said the American negro, who had translated into Spanish what I had told them, after the other had left me with him.

“The captain says he wishes I were black,” said I to the negro; “I wish I was, too, while I am on board of this vessel—my colour makes him angry, I see that. Could not I be stained black?”

“Well, I do think it will be a very safe thing for you, if it could be; for you have not seen him sometimes in his moods; and if to-morrow morning he was chased and hard pressed by the frigate, you would stand a poor chance, suppose his eyes light upon you. I can’t tink what make him to let you off, only but cause you give him de spy-glass in dat hold way. I tink I know a chap on board who understand dat—I go see—you wait here till I come back.”

The negro left me, and in a few minutes returned, with a sort of half-Indian, half-negro-looking cut of fellow, with whom he conversed in Spanish.

“He say he know how to make brown like himself but not dark same as me. Suppose you wish he do it to-night—begin now?”

“Yes, I do wish it,” replied I; and so I did sincerely, for I felt that it might be the saving of my life; and I had a great aversion to be torn to pieces by the sharks which followed the vessel, that being anything but an agreeable mode of going out of the world.

The American black remained with me, and we conversed for about half an hour, by which time we were joined by the Spanish Main negro, who brought up with him some decoction or another, boiling hot. They stripped me and rubbed me all over with a bit of sponge, not only the face and hands, but every part of my body and then I was left standing quite naked to dry; the crew had gathered round us, and were very merry at the idea of changing my colour.

As soon as the warm air had dried me, the application was created; and when I was again dry, the American told me to put on my clothes, and that he would call me early to have two more applications of the stuff, and that then I should be quite dark enough.

I asked for José, and told him what the captain had said; he gave me a bundle of matting for a bed, and I was soon fast asleep. About three o’clock in the morning I was called up, and the staining repeated twice, and I then lay down again.

When the hands were turned up at five bells (for everything was very regular on board), José brought me a glass to look at myself, and I was quite satisfied that my colour would no longer annoy the captain. I was not as black as a negro, but I was as dark as a mulatto.

I asked the Spanish negro, through José, who could speak both languages, whether I might wash myself? He replied, all day long if I pleased; that I should not get the colour off; it would wear off in time, and the stuff must be applied once a month, and that would be sufficient.

I went to the forecastle, and washed myself; the negro crew were much amused, and said that I now was a “bel muchaco”—a handsome boy. I dare say they thought so—at all events, they appeared to be very friendly with me, and my staining myself gave them great satisfaction. I was sitting with José between decks when the cabin bell rang.

“You go,” said he, showing his white teeth as he grinned; “I go after, see what captain tink.”

I went into the cabin, and knocked at the state-room door.

“Come in,” said the captain.

I went in, and met him face to face.

“What!” said he, looking earnestly at me—“yet it must be—it is you, is it not?”

“Yes, sir,” replied I, “it is me. I’ve turned dark to please you, and I hope it does please you.”

“It does, boy, I can look at you now, and forget that you are white. I can. I feel that I can love you now—you’ve got rid of your only fault in my eyes, and I’m not sorry. I’m only glad that I did not—”

“Give me to the sharks,” said I, finishing his sentence.

“Exactly so; say no more about it.”

I immediately turned the conversation, by asking him what he required; and I attended him while dressing. From that time he became very friendly towards me, constantly conversing with me. I did my duty as his servant for more than a fortnight, during which time we became very intimate, and (I may as well confess it) I grew very fond of my new master, and thought less about the ship and my shipmates. We were going into a port, I knew, but what port I did not know.

I often had conversations with José and the American black, and gained a great deal of information from them; but I could not discover much of the history of the captain. On that point they refused to be communicative; occasionally hints were given, and then, as if recollecting themselves, they stopped speaking.

It was about three weeks before we made the land of Cuba, and as soon as we did so, the schooner was hove to till night, when sail was again made, and before ten o’clock we saw the lights of the Havannah. When about three miles off we again hove to, and about midnight we perceived under the land the white sails of a schooner, which was standing out. Sail was made, and we ran down to her, and before she was aware that we were an enemy, she was laid by the board and in the possession of our crew. The people belonging to the vessel were handed up, and she was examined. She proved to be a vessel fitted out for the slave trade, with the manacles, etcetera, on board of her, and was just sailing for the coast.

I was on the deck when the white men, belonging to the slaver, were brought on board, and never shall I forget the rage and fury of the captain.

All sail was made upon both schooners, standing right off from the land, and at daylight we had left it a long way astern.

José said to me, “You better not go to captain dis day. Keep out of his way—perhaps he recollect dat you white.”

From what I had seen the night before, I thought this good advice; and I not only did not go into the cabin, but I did not show myself on deck.

About eight o’clock in the morning I heard the boat lowered down and orders given to scuttle the vessel, as soon as she had been well searched. This was done, and the boat returned, having found several thousand dollars on board of her, which they handed upon deck.

I remained below: I heard the angry voice of the negro captain—the pleadings and beggings for mercy of the prisoners—busy preparations making on deck; and several men came down and handed up buckets of sand; an iron grating was handed up. The countenances of the negroes who were thus employed appeared inflamed, as if their wrath was excited; now and then they laughed at each other, and looked more like demons than men. That some dreadful punishment was about to be inflicted I was certain and I remained crouched behind the foremast on the lower-deck.

At last the men were all on deck again, and I was left alone; and then I heard more noise, begging for mercy, weeping and wailing, and occasionally a few words from the mouth of the negro captain; then rose shrieks and screams, and appeals to Heaven, and a strong smell, which I could not comprehend, came down the hatchways.

The shrieks grew fainter, and at last ceased, and something was thrown overboard. Then the same tragedy, whatever it was, was acted over again—more attempts to obtain mercy—more shrieks—again the same overpowering smell. What could it be? I would have given much to know, but something told me that I must remain where I was. Ten times was this repeated, and then, as evening came on, there was a bustle on deck, and after a time the crew descended the hatchways.

I caught the eye of the American, with whom I was intimate, and as he passed me, I beckoned to him. He came to me.

“What has been done?” said I in a whisper.

“Captain punish slave traders,” replied he; “always punish them so.”

“Why, what did he do to them?”

“Do?—roast ’em alive. Dis third slave vessel he take, and he always serve ’em so. Serve ’em right; captain very savage; no go to him till morrow morning—you keep close.” So saying, the American negro left me.

As I afterwards found out, the long boat on the booms had been cleared out, the sand laid at the bottom to prevent the fire from burning the boat, the captain and crew of the slave vessel laid on one after the other upon the iron grating, and burnt alive. This accounted for the horrible smell that had come down the hatchways.

It may be considered strange that I really did not feel so much horror as perhaps I ought to have done. Had this dreadful punishment been inflicted upon anyotherpersons than slave dealers, andbyany other parties than negroes, I should not have been able to look at the captain without abhorrence expressed in my countenance; but I know well the horrors of the slave trade from conversation I had had with Bob Cross; and I had imbibed such a hatred against the parties who had carried it on, that it appeared to me to be an act of retaliation almost allied to justice. Had the negro captain only warred against slave dealers, I do not think I should have cared about remaining in the vessel; but he had told me and fully proved to me, that he detested all white men, and had never spared them except in my own instance.

I must acknowledge that I felt very much like going into the lion’s den, when the next morning, on his ringing the cabin bell, I presented myself to the captain; but so far from being in an ill-humour, he was very kind to me.

After breakfast, as I was going out, he said to me, “You must have a name: I shall call you Cato—recollect that; and now I have a question to ask you—What is that which you carry round your neck on a ribbon?”

“A letter, sir,” replied I.

“A letter! and why do you carry a letter?”

“Because it is of the greatest importance to me.”

“Indeed! Now, Cato, sit down on the other sofa, and let me know your history.”

I felt that I could not do better than to make this man at once my confidant. He might take a strong interest in me, and it was not likely to go farther. I therefore told him everything connected with my birth and parentage, what my suspicions had been, and how the letter had confirmed them. I unsewed the seal-skin, and gave him the letter to read—without being aware that he could read: he took it and read it aloud.

“Yes,” said he, “that’s proof under his own hand; and now, Cato, never be afraid of me, for, however I may wreak my vengeance upon others, I swearby my colourthat I never will hurt you, or permit others to do so. I am a tiger—I know it; but you have often seen a little spaniel caressed by the tiger, whose fangs are turned against every other living thing. You are quite safe.”

“I feel I am, since you say so,” replied I; “and since I am to be your pet, I shall take liberties, and ask you, in return, to tell me your history.”

“I am glad that you have asked it, as I wish you to know it. I will begin at once—

“I was born in America, in the state of Pennsylvania, of free parents. My father was a sail-maker, and was worth money; bet a free black in America is even worse treated and more despised than a slave. I had two brothers, who went to school with me.

“My father intended to bring me up for the Church. You look astonished; but in the States we have clergymen of our colour, as well as white ones; looked down upon and despised, I grant, although they do teach the Word of God; but I was very unfit for that profession, as you may suppose. I was very proud and haughty; I felt that I was as good as a white man, and I very often got into scrapes from my resenting injuries.

“However, my education went on successfully, much more so than that of my brothers, who could not learn. I could, and learnt rapidly but I learnt to hate and detest white men, and more especially Americans; I brooded over the injuries of people of colour, as we were called, and all my father’s advice and entreaty could not persuade me to keep my thoughts to myself. As I grew up to manhood, I spoke boldly, and more than once nearly lost my life for so doing; for most Americans think no more of taking the life of one like me than of a dog in the street. More than one knife has been directed to my heart, and more than once was I then up before the judge, and sentenced to imprisonment for no fault; my evidence, and the evidence of those of my colour, not being permitted to be received in a court of justice. Any white villain had only to swear falsely—and there is no want of that class in America—and there was no appeal. At last I was sentenced to be whipped; then my blood boiled, and I vowed a vengeance which I have fearfully adhered to.”

“I do not wonder at that,” said I; “I would have done the same.”

“The man who had sworn falsely against me in this last instance had come up from the South; I obtained what money I could from my father, and went away in pursuit of him. I found him—dogged him, and one evening I accosted him, and plunged my bowie-knife into his heart. I fled that State, and crossed the Mississippi.

“I had not been long in Arkansas before a man—a cotton-grower, who owned about a hundred and fifty slaves—inquired who I was, and whether I had a pass; I replied that I was a free man, born in Pennsylvania, and was there on my own affairs. The next day I was taken up, brought before the magistrate, and this scoundrel swore that I was his slave, and had absconded from him ten years before.

“My defence—the proof which I offered to bring, was not listened to. I was made over to him, and the rascal grinned as the constables brought me away with him. His plantation was at the Red River. It was difficult to escape and indeed, almost useless to attempt it: but the fact was, that I did not wish to do so; I remained to have my revenge. I tried to make the other slaves rise against him, but they were too cowed; they even informed against me, and I was tied down, and flogged by the drivers until the flesh fell from my shoulders.

“As soon as I recovered, I determined to do—or die. I heard that there were some pirate vessels in the Barataria lagoons on the other side of New Orleans; I resolved to join the crews, but first to have my revenge. I did so: I set fire to the plantation house—struck the scoundrel who had made me a slave senseless as he attempted to escape, and threw his body into the flames; I then made the door fast, and fled. I was met by one of the overseers, who was armed, and who would have stopped me: I beat his brains out with his own musket, and then gained the woods. You see that I am powerful; you hardly know how much so. After several days’ travelling, I arrived at the lagoons. I found this very vessel at anchor. I offered myself, and they accepted me immediately.

“There were several of my colour on board—runaway slaves—and all good determined men. These were the people I required, for they understood me. Even on board of a pirate vessel, the same contempt was shown towards us—still considered as inferior beings. All the heavy work all the dirty work, was for the negro race; and we often worked like slaves, while the captain and the rest of the crew caroused. I was three years on board of this vessel. Our rendezvous where we are going to now, is a small land-locked bay on the island of Cuba. No vessel in it can be seen from seaward, and there is but one narrow pass by which it communicates with the interior, and it is far from any habitation. A better retreat for a pirate vessel could not well be found. We used very often to go in to refit, and take in provisions and water; for in a cave there, we keep the provisions which we take from other vessels.

“In a desperate fight which we had with an English man-of-war brig, we lost nearly forty of our men. The captain, Chico, as he was called, was obliged to fill up with black men, until he could procure others. The consequence was, that with the ten before on board, there were fifty blacks to seventy whites. It was then that I made up my mind that I would retaliate for all that my race had suffered. I was sure of the ten with whom I had sailed so long; I sounded the others, and found them all willing.

“We sailed from the Mexican Gulf, and made for the Rendezvous Bay, in Cuba. As soon as we arrived, of course, as with all pirate vessels, the first day was dedicated to revelling and intoxication—that is, by the white portion of the crew. We negroes were employed in getting the casks ashore for water. That very night, when they all lay asleep and drunk, we put every soul of them to death, and the Stella belonged to me and my brave black who chose me for their captain, and swore by their wrongs eternal enmity to the European race.

“As you may suppose, I was short-manned; but we soon found plenty of men, and have now as fine a crew as ever trod a deck.”

“How long is it since you took possession of the vessel?”

“About eight or nine months, during which time I have spared none except you. The usual death is drowning; but if I fall in with a slaver, then—you know what took place yesterday.”

I was silent for a time. “I do not wonder,” said I, at last, “at your hatred of the whites, especially of the Americans. As for your wreaking your vengeance upon those employed in the slave trade, dreadful as it is, I scarcely pity them; but in your general warfare against the whites, recollect that you may murder those who are your friends, and who have done all they can to put an end to slavery. Even in America, there are many who are opposed to it.”

“It is impossible to make a distinction,” replied the negro.

“What is your name?” said I, musing.

“Why do you ask? You may as well know; I wish it to be known: it is James Vincent.”

“But tell me, if you were to meet with a very superior force, what would you do?”

“Run if I could; if not, fight.”

“But you might be captured, and then—”

“Never, boy; never.”

“Well,” said I, “as you have begun by sparing me, I hope you will spare others now.”

“I don’t know why I spared you. Had you shown any fear of death I should not have done so; but I felt that you would not care about it. I believe it was that.”

About ten days after, we made the east end of the island of Cuba, and ran into the Bay of Rendezvous, as it was named by the pirate. It was very small, but completely land-locked, and the land so high on every side that the masts of the vessel could not be seen from the seaward. The bay on the land side was met by a deep, narrow ravine, between mountains which were almost perpendicular, the ravine itself being accessible from the main land by only one narrow path known to the pirates, and which they seldom made use of, except when a spy was sent to the Havannah to ascertain what vessels were about to sail.

On the high land which shut in the bay from the sea, the pirates had a man constantly on the look-out, to report any vessel which might be in the offing, and Vincent himself passed much of his time there, as the breeze was fresh and the air cool to what it was down in the land-locked bay. I was, for the same reason, very fond of being on the look-out hill, and generally followed up the captain when he went out there. He certainly now showed a strong affection for me, and I liked him better than I ever thought I could have done. He was constantly telling me of the treatment he and the other poor blacks had received in America, and I could not help feeling my blood boil, and a conviction that, had I been so treated, I should probably have been equally under the influence of revenge. It is the world, and the treatment we receive from it, which makes us chiefly what we are.

One day the captain told me he was going that evening to obtain information, as the spy he had sent had returned unsuccessful, and that he should be absent for three or four days.

Although I was not discontented with my position, still, as the reader may well suppose, I had a strong wish to be out of it as soon as possible, and I had determined to escape if I could; it immediately occurred to me, that his absence would give me the opportunity.

I replied with a laugh, “Had you not better take me with you?”

“Very likely, indeed, you would be so very useful; I shall have quite enough to do to take care of myself; besides, you might betray me,” added he, with a fierce and penetrating look.

“Thank you, for your good opinion,” replied I, indignantly. “So you think, because you have saved my life, that I would take yours. I am not yet such a rascal, whatever I may become by keeping bad company.”

“Well, well,” replied the negro captain, “I believe I am wrong, so don’t get into a passion; but, at all events, you must see that it is impossible I can take you with me.”

“If you don’t choose, I can’t help it,” said I; “but I don’t like remaining here without you; I shall run away if I can, so I give you fair warning.”

“You won’t find that quite so easy,” replied he, laughing; “and I recommend you not to attempt it.”

Here the conversation dropped. About midnight the captain commenced his ascent of the ravine, and I resolved that I would not lose the opportunity, if it offered, of following him. I watched him as long as I could see him, that I might know the direction of the secret path, and then I joined the crew, who were lying down by the tents which they had pitched on the shore. Shortly afterwards, the Spanish Indian, who had coloured me, passed by me, and, as I intended to make the attempt before it was quite dark, I thought that I would remove any suspicion, and I therefore requested him to stain me again. This he consented to do, and in half an hour I was again naked among the negroes and undergoing the operation. Having received the two applications, as before, I then quitted them.

As soon as it was quite dark, I armed myself with a pair of pistols, and crawled underneath the back of the captain’s tent, in which I always slept, and, without being perceived, gained the narrow path in the brushwood by which the captain had left.

I continued in the path for some time, by feeling the brushwood on either side; but before I had crawled half way up the ravine, I found that the brushwood had not been cut away any farther and I was at a loss how to proceed. All traces were gone, and all I had to do was to climb up to the summit, and to take my chance of finding any egress. I toiled on with difficulty, sometimes stopped by a rock which would take me minutes to climb over at others, holding on by the brushwood for my life. By twelve o’clock I had gained more than two-thirds of the ascent, and then the moon rose, and assisted me with her light. I must say, that when I looked up and saw the rocks towering above me, and overhanging my path, I felt that escape was nearly impossible: however, I recommenced my labour, and gained some ground, when, as I was clinging to the side of a rock by a small shrub, it gave way, and I rolled and fell down many feet, between that rock and another opposite to it.

I was not much hurt, and I regained my legs. Looking up and about me, I found that I was in a narrow passage, between the rocks, leading both up and down—in fact, I had tumbled into the secret path that I had been in search of. Delighted with this discovery, I now set off with great spirit, and in half an hour found myself on the other side of the lull which formed the ravine, and looking down upon an expanse of country in the interior. Being very tired, I sat down, that I might recover my strength before I continued my journey.

“I am free at last,” thought I, and my memory wandered back to my mother my ship, and my captain—old Culpepper, Tommy Dott, and Bob Cross. “I shall see them all,” I thought, “and what a story I shall have to tell.” As soon as I had rested myself and recovered my breath, I thought I might as well start.

I had not proceeded more than a hundred yards before I thought heard a noise, as if some one was approaching. I listened—I felt sure that such was the case, and I also heard the deep baying of a hound. The noise increased rapidly—it was that of one forcing his way through the brushwood, which covered the side of the hill.

In a minute afterwards I perceived a man coming up the hill at a swift pace, directly towards me. As he approached I could almost swear that it was Vincent, the negro captain; but when within ten yards of me, I perceived, him turn round and flourish his sabre in the air, while, at the same time, three large bloodhounds sprang at him. One fell by the blow of his sabre, but the other two flew at his throat, and fastened on him, tearing him to the around, and holding him in spite of all his struggling and his immense strength.

I recollected my pistols: I cocked them, ran up, and putting one to the head of the nearest dog, blew out its brains. I was equally successful with the other—they both lay dead by his side, and Vincent was released. He started up.

“It is me, Cato,” said I.

“Cato!” replied he; “but there is not a moment to be lost. I understand it all.”

He seized me by the arm, and dragged me with him to the narrow entrance of the pass, and as soon as we came in he rolled three large rocks, which had evidently been used for such purpose before, so as completely to block up the entrance.

“There,” said he, leaning back quite exhausted; “be quiet, Cato. We are safe now; they will be on the top of the hill directly.”

We remained where we were about ten minutes, when we heard voices not very far from us. They were the pursuers of the negro captain who were evidently baffled. After a time the sounds receded from us, and we heard them no more. Vincent then spoke:—

“You were escaping, Cato.”

“I had escaped,” replied I: “I told you that I would.”

“Strange that you should have discovered the path; did any one betray it to you?”

“No one,” replied I: and I then told him how I had fallen into it.

“Well you have returned all obligations, and more than ever you owed me,” said he: “you have saved my life this time, and that when all chance was over.”

“Then,” replied I, “although I shall be very sorry to part with you, give me that liberty which I had gained, and which I lost in defending you from the dogs.”

“I would have let you go then, Cato,” replied he, “but your life would have been sacrificed. My pursuers would have hurried you to prison before you could have explained who you were. You forget your colour is changed; they were not seeking me, but a runaway slave, and the bloodhounds came upon my track. Those white men show no mercy; they have more pleasure in seeing a runaway slave torn to pieces by those dogs than in recovering possession of him. It is a sort of fox-chase to them,” continued he, grating his teeth after he had said so. “Cato, I will give you your liberty, if you wish it, and I know you do wish it, as soon as I can with any prudence; that I promise you, and you know that I will keep my word.”

“I am quite satisfied,” replied I.

“And do you promise me that you will not attempt to escape a second time?”

“I promise you that I will not,” replied I.

“Enough,” said Vincent. “Now let us go down the hill, for I am very much torn by those infernal brutes, and must have the wounds washed and attended to.”

We descended the hill, in silence, and in a quarter of an hour had gained the tent. Vincent was severely bitten and torn: as soon as his wounds had been dressed he lay down on his mat, and I did the same.

It was some days before Vincent recovered from the severe injuries which he had received from the bloodhounds; and he did not appear to be inclined to run any more risks of that sort. Although he said little, I could perceive that he was brooding over future vengeance and he was now nearly the whole of the day with his glass on the look-out hill.

One morning a schooner hove in sight, steering from the Havannah to the southward and eastward, either for the islands of the Spanish Main. The Stella had for many days been ready for instant sailing, and having watched her till near sunset, Vincent sent down orders for every soul to be on board, and the anchor hove up. Just as it was dark we towed out of the bay, and made all sail.

At daylight the schooner was but a few miles ahead of us and not being a fast sailer, in little more than an flour we were alongside of her. She proved to be bound to the island of Curaçao, being the property of an old Dutch gentleman, who was on board with his daughter, a little girl about seven years old. The crew consisted chiefly of negroes, slaves to the owner; the master of the vessel and the mate being, with the exception of the old gentleman and the little girl, the only white people on board.

As usual, the crew were brought on board by the pirates, who reported to the captain that the vessel was in ballast, and of no value. As the crew of the Stella were already more than requisite, Vincent did not require the negroes; he told them that they might go on board the schooner again, and take her into any port they pleased; with the white people, however it was another affair.

I had remained below, not wishing to witness a scene of butchery; but I was induced to look up the ladder, in consequence of José telling me that there was a little white girl come on board. At the time that I did so, Vincent had just done speaking with the negroes belonging to the captured vessel; they had fallen back, and there was then standing before Vincent, the master and mate of the vessel, the old Dutch gentleman, and the little girl.

A more interesting child I never had seen, and my heart bled at the idea of her being sacrificed. I could not help hoping that Vincent would have a similar feeling, but I was mistaken. The master and mate were pointed at, and immediately seized by negroes and tossed over into the sea. The old gentleman bowed his head over the beautiful child, and she knelt to him, as if for his blessing before she died. At that very moment Vincent gave the sign—I could remain quiet to longer—I sprang on the deck.

“Stop!” cried I to the men who were about to seize the old gentleman—“stop!” The negroes did fall back at my voice.

“What is this?” cried Vincent.

“Captain Vincent,” cried I, “do you call yourself a man, to war with children and old grey-headed men? You must not, shall not, touch these two. You have wreaked your vengeance upon the white men; be content—let these go.”

“Cato,” replied Vincent, fiercely, “it is well that it is you that have dared to snatch the prey from the fangs of the wild beast. Had it been another, this pistol should have sent a ball whizzing through his brain; as it is, go down below immediately.”

“I do not fear your pistol, Captain Vincent, nor will I go below; that very pistol, in my hand, saved you from the fangs of the blood-hound. I tell you, therefore, that you must not destroy that innocent child—if you love me, you must not; for I will hate, detest, and scorn you ever afterwards. I entreat you—I implore you to let them go: they are not fit objects for your vengeance; and if you destroy them, I tell you, you are a coward.”

“What!” roared the tiger, “a coward!” and, no longer able to contain himself he levelled his pistol at me and drew the trigger. It missed fire; Vincent looked very confused—he tossed the pistol on deck, folded his arms and turned his face away.

There was a dead silence. The negro crew looked first at me and then at the captain, as if awaiting orders, and uncertain of the issue. The Dutch gentleman seemed to be so lost in surprise, as to almost forget his impending fate; while the little girl clung to him and stared at me with her deep blue eyes. It was what on the theatres they would call a tableau.

I followed up my advantage. Stepping forward, and placing myself before the old man and the child, I first broke the silence.

“Captain Vincent,” said I, “you did once promise me that you would never injure me or attempt my life; that promise you have broken. Since that, you have made me another promise—you may recollect it—which was, that you would allow me to leave you on the first favourable opportunity; there cannot be any opportunity more favourable than the present. The negroes whom you are to send back to the schooner do not know how to navigate her. I request, therefore, to know whether you intend to keep this second promise, or to break it as you have the first? I ask my liberty.”

“If I broke my promise just now, it was your fault,” replied Vincent, coolly. “I am sorry for it, and I can say no more; I intended to keep it, and, to prove so, I now keep my second—you may go.”

“I thank you for that. I only wish that, now I leave you, I could leave you with feelings of good-will and not of—I must say it—of horror and disgust. Captain Vincent, once more let me beg, as a last favour, that you will spare these poor people.”

“Since you are so particularly interested about this useless old man and still more useless child,” replied Vincent, sarcastically, “I will now make a proposal to you. You have your liberty. Do you choose to give it up and remain here, provided I let them go away in the schooner? Come now—take your choice; for I swear by my colour, that if you go away in the schooner, the moment you shove off, they shall go over the gunwale.”

“My choice is then made,” replied I; for I knew that when he swore by his colour he was in earnest: “release them, and I will remain here.” I little knew what I was to undergo in consequence of this decision.

“Be it so,” said Vincent: then turning to one of the mates, “let them go back with the negroes; hoist the boat up when she returns, and sail for the Rendezvous.” So saying, he went down into the cabin.

“You are saved,” said I, going up to the old Dutch gentleman; “lose no time; get into the boat as fast as possible, and make sail on your vessel as soon as you get on board. Good bye, little girl,” said I, taking her hand.

“I thank you,” replied the gentleman in good English—“I cannot say how much; I am so surprised at what I have seen but recollect the name of Vanderwelt, of Curaçao; and if ever we meet again, you will find me grateful.”

“I will; but ask no more questions now—into the boat—quick,” said I, shaking his proffered hand. They were handed down into the boat by the negroes.

I remained on deck until they were put on board; the boat returned, was hoisted up, the schooner made sail again, and then I went down into the cabin. I found the negro captain stretched upon the sofa, his face covered up with both his hands; he remained in the same position, taking no notice of my coming down. Although my confidence in him was destroyed after his snapping the pistol at me, yet when I reflected how I had bearded him in his rage, I did make some excuse for him; moreover, I knew that it was my interest to be on the best terms with him, and, if possible, make him forget what had passed, for I felt that his proud spirit would make it difficult for him to forgive himself for having been induced by his passion to break an oath which he had sworn to by his colour; I therefore, after a little reflection, went up to him and said—

“I am sorry that I made you so angry, Captain Vincent; you must forgive me, but I thought that deed beneath you, and I could not bear to have a bad opinion of you.”

“Do you mean to assert that you have not a bad opinion of me now?” replied he, fixing his eyes upon me.

“No, certainly not; you have released those I pleaded for, and I am very grateful to you for having done so.”

“You have made me do what I never did before,” replied he, raising himself and sitting with his feet on the deck.

“I know I have; I have made you spare those of my colour.”

“I did not mean that; you have irritated me so as to make me break my oath.”

“That was my own doing—my fault rather than yours. I had no right to speak as I did; but I was in a great rage, and that is the truth. I do believe that, if I had had a pistol in my hand, I should have fired it at you; so we may cry quits on that score.”

“I am angry with myself—the more so, that I little imagined that you would have remained with me after my breaking my oath. Either you must have felt great interest about those people, or you must have great confidence in me, a confidence winch I have proved that I do not deserve.”

“That you did forget yourself, I grant; but I have that confidence that it will be a warning to you, and you will not forget yourself again; I therefore remain with you with perfect confidence, feeling I am quite safe, until you think proper to give me my liberty.”

“You will wish to leave me then?”

“I have relations and friends—a profession to follow. What can I gain by remaining here, except your friendship? I never will be a pirate, you may be assured, I wish from my heart that you were not one.”

“And who should be pirates if the blacks are not?” replied Vincent. “Have they not the curse of Cain? Are they not branded? Ought not their hands to be against every one but their own race? What is the Arab but the pirate of the desert—the sea of sand? Black is the colour for pirates. Even the white pirates feel the truth of this, or why do they hoist theblackflag?”

“At all events, it’s a profession that seldom ends well.”

“And what matter does that make? We can die but once—I care not how soon. I have not found life so very sweet as to care for it, I assure you. Cato, there is but one thing sweet in existence—one feeling that never clogs and never tires, and that is revenge.”

“Are not love and friendship sweet? I certainly know nothing about the first.”

“I know no more than you do of it. They say friendship is the more lasting; and as a proof of how lasting that is I snapped my pistol at you, and, had it not missed fire, should have killed the only one for whom I ever felt friendship in this world.”

“That’s a bad habit you have of carrying your pistols at all times; they are too handy, and give no time or reflection. Only suppose, now, you had blown out my brains, you would have been very sorry.”

“Cato, I have many lives on my hands, and hope to have many more before I die. I never have repented one act of my life—a murder, as you may call it—and I never shall. But I tell you frankly, that had I destroyed you in my passion I should have been a miserable man. I know it; I feel it.”

“Let’s say no more about it: that I’m just as glad as you are that you did not kill me, I assure you most positively. Here’s José coming with the dinner.”

Here ended our conversation, which I have given just to show the peculiar disposition of this extraordinary man, with whom I had become domesticated. Verily and truly was I, as he said, “like a little dog in the cage of a tiger,” and, from familiarity: just as bold as dogs become under such peculiar circumstances.

Before morning we were again at anchor in the Rendezvous Bay, and the tents were pitched as before. We remained there for more than a fortnight, during which my intimacy with the captain was even greater than before. He appeared to endeavour to do all in his power to restore my confidence in him, and he succeeded. Still, I must say, that I began to be weary of this sort of life. My dreams were ever of murder and bloodshed; and more than once I felt inclined to make my escape: but I had promised, and the remembrance of my promise prevented me.

One afternoon the man on the look-out made the usual signal for a vessel in sight. Vincent went up immediately, and I followed him. It was a schooner, very long, with very taut, raking masts. Vincent examined her for some time, and then gave me the glass, and asked me what I thought of her. I replied, that I thought she was a man-of-war schooner.

“You are right,” said he, “I know her well; it is the Arrow, and she has come out to cruise for me. This is the third time that she has been sent after me. Once we exchanged a few broadsides, but another man-of-war hove in sight, and I was compelled to leave her. She shall not accuse me of running from her, now that she is alone, and by to-morrow morning I will give her the opportunity of making the report of my capture if she can; but if I capture her, you may guess the rest.”

We remained till nearly sunset watching the motions of the schooner. Vincent then went down the hill to give orders for sailing, leaving me with the glass. I again directed it to the schooner, and perceived that she was making signals.

Then she is not alone, thought I; and Vincent may not capture her quite so easily as he expects. I looked in vain for the other vessel; I could not see her; I therefore concluded that she must be somewhere under the land, and hidden by it from my sight.

The signals were repeated till dusk when I went down the hill, and found that all was bustle and activity, Vincent superintending himself the preparations for sailing. I did not interrupt him to tell him that I had perceived the schooner making signals. I had an idea, somehow or another, that I should regain my liberty, and was as anxious as Vincent that the Stella should be under weigh.

Before ten o’clock everything was ready. Vincent had told his men that the English man-of-war schooner was outside, and that he intended to fight her; the men appeared delighted at the proposal, and as resolute and determined as men should be.

As soon as the Stella was clear of the bay, everything was got ready for action, and I must say that nothing could be more rapid or more quiet than their movements. We stood out until we had gained an offing of five miles, and then made a reach along the shore towards the Havannah.

As soon as the Stella had laid her head towards the Havannah, Vincent came down below. I had latterly slept on one of the cabin sofas, but had this night remained with my clothes on, for I was not sure that we might not be in action before the morning.

The Arrow had gained the knowledge that our Rendezvous Bay was somewhere about the east end of the island, and had cruised accordingly, but could not discover it.

Vincent threw himself on the other sofa, and I pretended to asleep; as I did not wish to enter into conversation with him was too much occupied with my own thoughts, and felt that there would be nothing in common between us at such a moment. He was very soon asleep, and he talked in his sleep. He was evidently in action, and gave his orders, every now and then speaking a few words aloud, and then it appeared as if he had taken the English schooner, and that he was fulfilling his vows of retaliation. I shuddered as I heard the half-broken menaces—the exulting laugh which occasionally burst from his lips. I arose and watched him as he slept; his hands were continually in motion, and his fists clenched, and he smiled. Merciful Heaven! what a tale of savage cruelty that smile foretold if he were successful! I knelt down and prayed that he might be foiled in his endeavours. As I rose I heard a noise and talking on deck, and one of the mates came down in the cabin.

“How does she bear?” cried Vincent, starting up from his couch, as if he instinctively knew what was to be told.

“Two points on the weather bow, captain,” replied the negro. “I think she has her foresheet to windward.”

“What’s the time?”

“One bell in the morning watch; it will be daylight in an hour.”

“Very good. How far is she off?”

“About four miles.”

“Pipe to quarters; I will be up directly.”

Vincent took down his sword and buckled on his belt; then his pistols, which after having examined the primings, he fixed in his girdle. I still remained as if asleep, and as he was going out of the cabin, he turned to me. “He sleeps, poor boy; well, why should I wake him?—the guns will rouse him up soon enough.” So saying, he went on deck.

I considered what I should do. To be on deck was hardly safe for me as a white person; and, indeed, what business had I there? Why should I expose myself to the shot of my countrymen, or run the risk of losing my life from the rage of the negroes? I therefore resolved on remaining where I was—at all events, for the present.

The negroes now came into the cabin, for the after-magazine was under the forepart of it. The hatch was taken up, the screens let down, and all was dark. I had nothing to do but to catch now and then the commands given by the negro captain, and draw my inference as to what was taking place.

Although for the first half-hour I gained little information, after that time had elapsed I knew what was going on. I heard a voice hailing us from another vessel, and the reply of the Stella was a broadside. There could be no mistake in that. The Stella was then put about, and the other broadside given without a return from her opponent. At last it came, and as the shot whizzed over or tore up the planking of the gunwales, I certainly did feel very strangely. I had never been in action before, and the sensation was, I confess, that of alarm; but it was so mingled with curiosity as to what was going on, that it was impossible to say what my feelings were. I longed to be on deck, and certainly would have been, if I had thought that I was safe with the pirate crew: that alone prevented me; I remained, therefore, in a most unpleasant state of ignorance and suspense.

The broadsides were now exchanged rapidly and the wounded, brought down between decks every minute, told me that the action was severe. The orders of the negro captain were occasionally heard—they were cool and determined. Every minute some fresh manoeuvre was executed, and the guns still worked as if there was nothing else to attend to. At last, the daylight came down the hatchway, and I left the cabin and walked forward between decks; I found the deck strewed with wounded and dying men, calling for water. I was glad to be able to do something which I could consistently do, and I brought water from the cask and gave it to them, one after another, as fast as I could; I think there were at least thirty men lying about the lower deck, some in pools of their own blood, and sinking fast, for there was no surgeon on board of the Stella.

Some more wounded men were brought down, and a conversation took place between one of the mates of the schooner, who was hurt, and the men who brought down the wounded, and listening to them, I found that at daylight they had discovered that an English frigate was under all sail, beating up to them, and about five miles to leeward; that in consequence, the Stella was now carrying on a running fight with the schooner (who was to windward of her), and trying to escape. This accounted for the signals which I had perceived that the English schooner was making the evening before. My anxiety at this intelligence was naturally much increased. The Stella was trying to escape, and her sailing powers were so remarkable, that I was afraid she would succeed.

The action was still continued between the two schooners, but now the shot no longer hit the Stella, nor were there any more wounded men brought down; it was evident that the two vessels were now firing at each other’s masts and rigging, the one to prevent, and the other to effect her escape, by dismantling her antagonist. I felt as if I could have given my left hand to have gone on deck. I waited half an hour more, and then, curiosity conquering my fear, I crept gradually up the fore ladder. The men were working the guns to windward, the lee-side of the deck was clear, and I stepped forward, and got into the head, where I could see both to windward and to leeward. To leeward I perceived the frigate about four miles distant with every stretch of canvass that she could set on a wind; I knew her directly to be the Calliope, my own ship, and my heart beat quick at the chance of being once more on board of her.

To windward, as the smoke occasionally cleared away, I saw the Arrow schooner close hauled on the same tack as the Stella, and distant about a mile, every ten seconds the smoke from her guns booming along the water’s surface, and the shot whizzing through our rigging; she had not suffered much from our fire: her sails were full of shot-holes, it is true, but her spars were not injured. I then turned my eyes upon the masts and rigging of the Stella: apparently, the damage done was about equal to that received by the Arrow; our sails were torn, but our spars were unscathed.

The water was smooth, although the breeze was fresh, and both schooners were running at the rate of six or seven miles an hour; but the Stella had evidently the advantage of sailing, and fore-reached upon her opponent. I perceived that everything depended upon a lucky hit and having satisfied myself with what I had seen, I hastened down below.

For more than half an hour the firing continued without advantage on either side, when a yell was given by the negro crew, and I heard them cry on the deck that the Arrow’s foretop-mast was shot away. I heard the voice of Vincent cheering his men, and telling them to be steady in their aim. My heart sunk at the intelligence, and I sat down on a chest.

The firing now slackened, for the Stella had shot ahead of the English schooner, and the negroes on deck were laughing and in high good-humour. For a few minutes the firing ceased altogether, and I took it for granted that the Stella had left her pursuers far behind; when of a sudden, a whole broadside of guns were poured into us, and there was a terrible crashing and confusion on the deck.

I ran up the ladder to see what had happened. It appeared that as the Stella was crossing the bows of the Arrow, the latter had, as a last chance thrown up in the wind, and discharged her whole broadside into us: two shots had struck our mainmast, which had fallen by the board. I perceived at once that the Stella’s chance was over—nothing could save her; she might resist the schooner but could not escape the frigate.

I ran down below, and went into the cabin; I was afraid that the negroes might perceive the joy in my countenance. I heard the angry voice of the negro captain—I heard him stamping with rage, and I thanked God that I was not by his side. The wreck of the mast was soon cleared away; I heard him address his negroes, point out to them that it was better to die like men at the guns, than swing at the yard-arm like dogs. Some of them came down and took on deck a quarter-cask of spirits, which was plentifully supplied to all.

The English schooner had borne down upon us, and the action now commenced at pistol-shot. Never shall I forget what took place for nearly three-quarters of an hour; the negroes, most of them intoxicated, fought with rage and fury indescribable—their shouts—their screams—their cursing and blasphemy, mingled with the loud report of the guns, the crashing of the spars and bulwarks, the occasional cry of the wounded, and the powerful voice of Vincent. It was terrific between decks; the smoke was so thick, that those who came down for the powder could not see, but felt their way to the screen. Every two seconds, I heard the men come aft, toss off the can of liquor, and throw it on the deck, hen they went to resume their labour at their guns.

At the end of the time I have mentioned, the shot flew from to leeward, as well as from to windward: the frigate had got within range, and was pouring in her broadside; still the firing and the shouting on the deck of the Stella continued, but the voices were fewer; and as the firing of the frigate became more severe, they became fainter and fainter; and at last but an occasional gun was fired from our decks.

I became so uneasy, that I could remain where I was no longer; I went forward on the lower deck again, and tumbling over the wounded and the dead, I crept up the fore-ladder. I looked over the coamings of the hatchway; the decks were clear of smoke, for not a gun was being fired. Merciful Heaven! what a scene of slaughter! Many of the guns were dismantled, and the decks were strewed with the splinters and plankings of the gunwale, broken spars, and negroes lying dead, or drunk, in all directions—some cut and torn to pieces, others whole, but mixed up with the fragments of other bodies: such a scene of blood I have never since witnessed. Out of the whole crew, I do not think there were twenty men left unhurt, and these were leaning or lying down, exhausted with fatigue or overcome with liquor, on various parts of the deck.

The fighting was over; there was not one man at his gun—and of those who remained still alive, one or two fell, while I was looking up from the shot, which continued every minute to pierce the bulwarks. Where was Vincent? I dare not go aft to see. I dare not venture to meet his eye. I dived down below again, and I returned aft to the cabin; there was no more demand for powder; not a soul was to be seen abaft. Suddenly the after-hatchway grating was thrown off; I heard some one descend; I knew it was the hurried tread of the negro captain. It was so dark, and the cabin so full of smoke, that, coming from the light, he did not perceive me, although I could distinguish him. He was evidently badly wounded, and tottered in his walk: he came into the cabin, put his hand to his girdle, and felt for his pistol, and then he commenced pulling down the screen, which was between him and the magazine. His intentions were evident; which were to blow up the vessel.

I felt that I had not a moment to lose. I dashed past him, ran up the ladder, sprung aft to the taffrail, and dashed over the stern into the sea. I was still beneath the surface, having not yet risen from my plunge, when I heard and felt the explosion—felt it, indeed, so powerfully, that it almost took away my senses; so great was the shock, even when I was under the water, that I was almost insensible. I have a faint recollection of being drawn down by the vortex of the sinking vessel, and scrambling my way to the surface of the water, amidst fragments of timbers and whirling bodies. When I recovered myself, I found that I was clinging to a portion of the wreck, in a sort of patch, as it were, upon the deep blue water, dark as ink, and strewed with splintered fragments.

There I remained some minutes, during which time I gained my recollection: I looked around and perceived the Arrow schooner, lying about one hundred yards off, totally dismantled, and my own frigate about a quarter of a mile to leeward, as bright and as fresh as if she had just been refitted. I observed a signal, made by the Calliope to the schooner, which was answered. I looked in vain towards the schooner, expecting her to lower down a boat. The fact was, that the Calliope had made the signal for her to do so, and the schooner had replied that she had no boat that could swim. I then perceived that the frigate had lowered down a boat which was pulling towards me, and I considered myself as safe.

In a few minutes, during which I had quite recovered myself, the boat pulled into the mass of floating fragments, and then the sailors ceased rowing to look about them. They perceived and pulled towards me—hoisted me in over the gunwale, and laid me at the bottom of the boat. I scrambled on my feet, and would have goneaft, when the midshipman of the boat said to the men, “Pass that cursed young pirate forward—don’t let him come aft here.”

“Oh, oh, Mr Lascelles,” thinks I—“so you don’t know me; you shall know me by-and-by.” I quite forgot that I was stained black, till one of the men who seized me by the collar to pass me forward, said, “Hand along the nigger. He’s a young one for the gallows, any how.”

They handed me forward, and I did not choose to say who I was. My love of fun returned the moment that I was again with my shipmates. After looking well round and ascertaining that I was the only one left alive, they pulled back to the frigate; and the midshipman went up to report. I was handed up the side and remained at the break of the gangway, while the captain and first lieutenant were talking with Mr Lascelles: during which Mr Tommy Dott came up to me, and, putting his finger to his left ear, gave a cluck with his tongue, as much as to say, “You’ll be hanged, my good fellow.”

I could not help giving the first mason’s sign which I taught to Mr Green in return for Tommy’s communication; to wit, putting my thumb to my nose, and extending my finger out towards him; at which Tommy Dott expressed much indignation, and called me a precious impudent varmin. The men who were near us laughed, and said that I was game at all events. No one knew me; for not only was my face well stained, but I was covered from head to foot with a solution of salt water and gunpowder, which made me still more indistinguishable.

I had remained at the gangway about two minutes, when the first lieutenant said, “Bring the prisoner here.”

I immediately went aft; and as soon as I was standing before Captain Delmar and the first lieutenant—(and behind were all the officers, anxious to hear what I had to disclose)—I put my hand to my head, having no hat, as may be supposed, and said, “Come on board, sir,” reporting myself, as is usually the custom of officers when they return from leave or duty.

“Good Heavens! that voice!—why, who are you?” cried Captain Delmar, starting back a pace.

“Mr Keene, sir,” replied I, again putting my hand to my head.

Bob Cross, who was, with many of the seamen, close to me, quite forgetting etiquette, ran up and caught me round the waist, looking me full in the face: “It is him, sir—it is him! Huzzah! huzzah!” and all the seamen joined in the huzzahs, which were, however, mingled with a great deal of laughter.

“Merciful Heaven! and so you have been blown up in that vessel,” said the first lieutenant, coming to me, with great kindness. “Are you much burnt? Why, he’s quite black—where’s the surgeon?”

“Aren’t hurt at all, sir,” replied I.

“Let him be taken down and examined,” said the captain with some emotion; “if not hurt, let him come into the cabin to me.”

The captain went down the ladder, and then I shook hands with Tommy Dott and all the other officers and midshipmen; and I will say that my re-appearance appeared to give unusual satisfaction. I went down into the gun-room and was stripped. They were much surprised to find that I was not hurt, and even more when they discovered that I was black all over, and that washing would not restore my colour.

“Why, Keene,” said the first lieutenant, “how is it that you have changed your colour?”

“Oh, sir, I’ve been playing the nigger for these last three months. It is a long story, but I will go with you to the captain, and I will tell it there.”

As soon as I had put on my uniform, I went up with Mr Hippesley to the cabin, and having, at the captain’s request, taken a chair, I entered into a full explanation, which lasted more than an hour.

As soon as I had finished, Mr Hippesley who had plenty to do on deck, but who could not leave until he had heard my story, quitted the cabin, and I found myself alone with the captain.

“I must say that I gave you up for lost,” said Captain Delmar; “the boat’s crew were picked up the next morning, and reported that you were drowned in the cabin of the vessel. Scoundrels, to desert you in that way.”

“I do not think they were to blame, sir; the water being so high in the cabin, and my not answering to their call.”

“But did they call you?”

“Yes, sir; I heard them call when I was half asleep, and I did not answer.”

“Well, I am glad to hear you say so; but so convinced have we been of your loss, that I have written to your mother on the subject. Strange, this is the second time that she has been distressed in this way. You appear to have a charmed life, Mr Keene.”

“I hope I shall long live to do credit to your protection, sir,” replied I.

“I hope so too, Mr Keene,” replied the captain, very kindly; “I sincerely hope so too. In all this business you have conducted yourself very manfully. It does you great credit, and your mother ought to be proud of you.”

“Thanky, sir,” replied I, for I was overjoyed at such language from Captain Delmar, and I thought to myself, if he says my mother ought be proud of me, he feels so himself.

“Of course, you cannot do duty under such a masquerade as you are at present,” continued the captain, who referred to my stained skin. “I presume it will wear off by-and-by. You will dine with me to-day; now you may go to your messmates.”

I left the cabin, bowing very respectfully, and pleased with what had occurred. I hastened to join my messmates, not, however, until I had shaken hands with Bob Cross, who appeared as delighted to see me as if he was my father.

I leave the reader to imagine the sort of levee which I held both on the quarter-deck and below. Mr Hippesley could not get any of the officers to mind their duty. I certainly was for two or three days the greatest personage in the ship. After that, I had time to tell the whole of my history quietly to Bob Cross.

Bob Cross, when he had heard me without interruption, said, “Well, Master Keene, there’s no telling what a man’s born to till after he’s dead, and then it’s all known: but it does appear to me that you are born to something out of the common. Here you are, not sixteen, not only playing a man’s part, but playing it manfully. You have been put in most difficult situations, and always have fallen upon your feet in the end. You appear to have an old head upon very young shoulders; at one moment to be a scampish boy full of mischief, and at another a resolute, cool, and clever man. Sarcumstances, they say, make men, and so it appears in you; but it does seem strange for one and the same lad to be stealing the purser’s plums at one moment, and twisting a devil of a nigger pirate round his finger the very next; and then you have had such escapes—twice reported dead at head-quarters, and twice come to life again. Now Master Keene, I’ve very good news to tell you: you don’t know how high you stand with the captain and officers: there’s a feeling of envy against a lad who goes ahead (as well as a man) which blinds people to his real merits; but when he is supposed to be dead and gone, and no longer in the way of others, then every one tells the real truth; and I do assure you that not only the officers, but the captain himself, grieved most sorely at your loss. I saw the captain’s eyes wink more than once when speaking of you, and the first lieutenant was always telling the other mids that he had not one worth his salt, now that you were gone. And now that you have come back and gained so much credit for what has passed, I do really think that the captain is proud of you. I overheard a little conversation between the captain and first lieutenant the day you came on board, after you had been in the cabin telling your adventures, and all that I can say is, that the game is in your own hands, if you only play your cards well, and never let Captain Delmar have the least idea that you know that you have such claims upon him.”

“That I certainly will not,” replied I, “as it might check his feeling towards me.”

“Exactly: I’ve often thought about you, and now that I like you so much, I watch the captain for your sake, and listen particularly to what he says after dinner especially, when I’ve the opportunity; for you see, when gentlemen drink wine, they speak more freely as to what they really think, just as we foremast-men do when we get our grog on board. The greatest misfortune which could happen to you in your position would be, the captain marrying and having children on the right side of the blanket as they call it. Now I’ve often heard the captain express a dislike to matrimony, and laugh at people’s getting married, which has pleased me very much for your sake, Master Percival. You see, a man don’t think much of marrying after forty, and the captain must be fifty, if not more.”

“Yes: but if his brother dies—and he is a very infirm man—the captain will then be Viscount de Versely, and inherit very large estates, and then he will marry to have an heir to the title and estates even if there is no love in the case.”

“So he may,” replied Cross—“there’s no saying; but still, even if he does, it ain’t certain that he has a family; chickens must not be counted before they are hatched. All you have to pray for then is, that the brother may prove as tough as our old admirals, whose senses get tired of staying any longer in their bodies, and leave them long before their hulks are worn out.”

“Why do admirals live so long?”

“Well, I suppose it is for the same reason that salt meat keeps so much longer than fresh; they have been forty or fifty years with the salt spray washing in their faces and wetting their jackets, and so in time, d’ye see, they become as it were pickled with brine. Talking about that, how long will it be before you get that tanning off you?”

“I don’t know; but as the captain says I’m to do no duty while it lasts, I hope it won’t wear off too soon.”

“Spoken like a midshipman: now take my advice, although not ordered to your duty, come up on deck and take your spy-glass.”

“I’ve lost it, unfortunately. That was a good glass, for it saved my life.”

“Yes, it turned out as good for you as a Freemason’s sign, which is more than Mr Green can say. I don’t think he’ll ever make a sailor—he’d better bear up for clerk, and then he might do very well for a purser by-and-by. There’s eight bells, Master Keene, so I think we had better say good night.”

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