But all this is wandering from the subject. We are now asked in direct terms to free our slaves. I will not even glance at the injustice of this demand, the horrible infraction of rights that it would lead to; all this I will leave untouched; but, my dear fellow, were men in your service or the army to do us justice, each in his small sphere in England, how much good might you not do us? Officers of rank are, of all others, the most influential witnesses we could adduce, if they, like you, have had opportunities of judging for themselves. But I am rambling from my object. You may remember our escapade into Cuba, a thousand years ago, when you were a lieutenant of the Firebrand. Well, you may also remember Don Ricardo's doctrine regarding the gradual emancipation of the negroes, and how we saw his plan in full operation at least I did, for you knew little of these matters. Well, last year I made a note of what then passed, and sent it to an eminent West India merchant in London, who had it published in the Courier, but it did not seem to please either one party or the other; a signal proof, one would have thought, that there was some good in it. At a later period, I requested the same gentleman to have it published in Blackwood, where it would at least have had a fair trial on its own merits, but it was refused insertion. My very worthy friend, who acted for old Kit at that time as secretary of state for colonial affairs, did not like it, I presume; it trenched a little, it would seem, on the integrity of his great question; it approached to something like compulsory manumission, about which he does rave. Why will he not think on this subject like a Christian man? The country—I say so—will never sanction the retaining in bondage of any slave, who is willing to pay his master his fair appraised value.

Our friend——injures us, and himself too, a leetle by his ultra notions. However, hear what I propose, and what, as I have told you formerly, was published in the Courier by no less a man than Lord——.

Scheme for the gradual Abolition of Slavery.

The following scheme of redemption for the slaves in our colonies is akin to a practice that prevails in some of the Spanish settlements.

We have now bishops, (a most excellent measure,) and we may presume that the inferior clergy will be much more efficient than heretofore. It is therefore proposed,—That every slave, on attaining the age of twenty one years, should be, by act of Parliament, competent to apply to his parish clergyman, and signify his desire to be appraised. The clergyman's business would then be to select two respectable appraisers from amongst his parishioners, who should value the slave, calling in an umpire if they disagreed.

As men even of good principles will often be more or less swayed by the peculiar interests of the body to which they belong, the rector should be instructed, if he saw any flagrant swerving from an honest appraisement, to notify the same to his bishop, who, by application to the governor, if need were, could thereby rectify it. When the slave was thus valued, the valuation should be registered by the rector, in a book to be kept for that purpose, an attested copy of which should be annually lodged amongst the archives of the colony.

We shall assume a case, where a slave is valued for LI20, Jamaica currency. He soon, by working by—hours, selling the produce of his provision grounds, etc. Acquires L20; and how easily and frequently this is done, every one knows, who is at all acquainted with West India affairs.

He then shall have a right to pay to his owner this L20 as the price of his Monday for ever, and his owner shall be bound to receive it. A similar sum would purchase him his freedom on Tuesday; and other four instalments, to use a West India phrase, would buy him free altogether. You will notice, I consider that he is already free on the Sunday. Now, where is the insurmountable difficulty here? The planter may be put to inconvenience, certainly, great inconvenience, but he has compensation, and the slave has his freedom—if he deserves it; and as his emancipation in nine cases out of ten would be a work of time, he would, as he approached absolute freedom, become more civilized, that is, more fit to be free; and as he became more civilized, new wants would spring up, so that when he was finally free, he would not be content to work a day or two in the week for subsistence merely. He would work the whole six to buy many little comforts, which, as a slave suddenly emancipated, he never would have thought of.

As the slave becomes free, I would have his owner's allowance of provisions and clothing decrease gradually.

It may be objected—suppose slaves partly free, to be taken in execution, and sold for debt. I answer, let them be so. Why cannot three days of a man's labour be sold by the deputy marshal as well as six?

Again—Suppose the gang is mortgaged, or liable to judgments against the owner of it. I still answer, let it be so—only, in this case let the slave pay his instalments into court, in place of paying them to his owners, and let him apply to his rector for information in such a case.

By the register I would have kept, every one could at once see what property an owner had in his gang—that is, how many were actually slaves, and how many were in progress of becoming free. Thus well disposed and industrious slaves would soon become freemen. But the idle and worthless would still continue slaves, and why the devil shouldn't they?

(Signed) A. B——.

There does seem to be a rough, yet vigorous sound sense in all this. But I take leave of the subject, which I do not profess to understand; only I am willing to bear witness in favour of my old friends, so far as I can, conscientiously.

We returned next day to Santiago, and had then to undergo the bitterness of parting. With me it was a slight affair, but the skipper! However, I will not dwell on it. We reached the town towards evening. The women were ready to weep, I saw; but we all turned in, and next morning at breakfast we were moved, I will admit—some more, some less. Little Reefy, poor fellow, was crying like a child; indeed he was little more, being barely fifteen.

"Oh! Mr Cringle, I wish I had never seen Miss Candalaria de los Dolores; indeed I do."

This was Don Ricardo's youngest niece.

"Ah, Reefy, Reefy," said I, "you must make haste, and be made post, and then"

"What does he call her?" said Aaron.

"Senora Tomassa Candalaria de los Dolores Gonzales y Vallejo," blubbered out little Reefy.

"What a complicated piece of machinery she must be!" gravely rejoined Bang.

The meal was protracted to a very unusual length, but time and tide wait for no man. We rose. Aaron Bang advanced to make his bow to our kind hostess; he held out his hand, but she, to Aaron's great surprise apparently, pushed it on one side and regularly closing with our friend, hugged him in right earnest. I have before mentioned that she was a very small woman; so, as the devil would have it, the golden pin in her hair was thrust into Aaron's eye, which made him jump back, wherein he lost his balance, and away he went, dragging Madama Campana down on the top of him. However, none of us could—laugh now; we parted, jumped into our boat, and proceeded straight to the anchorage, where three British merchantmen were by this time riding all ready for sea. We got on board. "Mr Yerk," said the Captain, "fire a gun, and hoist blue Peter at the fore. Loose the foretopsail." The masters came on board for their instructions; we passed but a melancholy evening of it, and next morning I took my last look of Santiago de Cuba.

CHAPTER XV

The Cruise of the Wave. The Action with the Slaver.

'O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear the billow's foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home. These are our realms, no limits to their sway. Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.'

BYRON, THE CORSAIR, I. 1—6.



At three o'clock next morning, about an hour and a half before daydawn, I was roused from my cot by the gruff voice of the boatswain on deck "All hands up anchor."

The next moment the gunroom steward entered with a lantern, which he placed on the table—"Gentlemen, all hands up anchor, if you please."

"Botheration!" grumbled one.

"Oh dear!" yawned another.

"How merrily we live that sailors be!" sung another in a most doleful strain, and in all the bitterness of heart consequent on being roused out of a warm nest so unceremoniously. But no help for it; so up we all got, and opening the door of my berth, I got out, and sat me down on the bench that ran along the starboard side of the table.

For the benefit of the uninitiated, let me describe a gunroom on board of a sloop of war. Everybody knows that the Captain's cabin occupies the after part of the ship; next to it, on the same deck, is the gunroom. In a corvette, such as the Firebrand, it is a room, as, near as may be, twenty feet long by twelve wide, and lighted by a long scuttle, or skylight, in the deck above. On each side of this room runs a row of small chambers, seven feet long by six feet wide, boarded off from the main saloon, or, in nautical phrase, separated from it by bulkheads, each with a door and small window opening into the same, and, generally speaking, with a small scuttle in the side of the ship towards the sea. These are the officers' sleeping apartments, in which they have each a chest of drawers and basin—stand; while overhead is suspended a cot, or hammock, kept asunder by a wooden frame, six feet long by about two broad, slung from cleats nailed to the beams above, by two lanyards fastened to rings, one at the head, and the other at the foot; from which radiate a number of smaller cords, which are fastened to the canvass of the cot; while a small strip of canvass runs from head to foot on each side, so as to prevent the sleeper from rolling out. The dimensions of the gunroom are, as will be seen, very much circumscribed by the side berths; and when you take into account, that the centre is occupied by a long table, running the whole length of the room, flanked by a wooden bench, with a high back to it, on each side, and a large clumsy chair at the head, and another at the foot, not forgetting the sideboard at the head of the table, (full of knives, forks, spoons, tumblers, glasses &c. &c. &c. stuck into mahogany sockets,) all of which are made fast to the deck by strong cleats and staples, and bands of spunyarn, so as to prevent them fetching way, or moving, when the vessel pitches or rolls, you will understand that there is no great scope to expatiate upon, free of the table, benches, and bulkheads of the cabins. While I sat monopolizing the full light of the lantern, and accoutring myself as decently as the hurry would admit of, I noticed the officers, in their nightgowns and night—caps, as they extricated themselves from their coops; and picturesque—looking subjects enough there were amongst them, in all conscience. At length, that is in about ten minutes from the time we were called, we were all at stations—a gun was fired, and we weighed, and then stood out to sea, running along about four knots, with the land—wind right aft. Having made an offing of three miles or so, we outran the terral, and got becalmed in the belt of smooth water between it and the sea—breeze. It was striking to see the three merchant—ships gradually draw out from the land, until we were all clustered together in a bunch, with a half a gale of wind curling the blue waves within musket—shot, while all was long swell and smooth water with us. At length the breeze reached us, and we made sail with our convoy to the southward and eastward, the lumbering merchantmen crowding every inch of canvass, while we could hardly keep astern, under close—reefed topsails, foresail, jib, and spanker.

"Pipe to breakfast," said the Captain to Mr Yerk.

"A sail abeam of us to windward!"

"What is she?" sung out the skipper to the man at the masthead who had hailed.

"A small schooner, sir; she has fired a gun, and hoisted an ensign and pennant."

"How is she steering?"

"She has edged away for us, sir."

"Very well.—Mr Yerk, make the signal for the convoy to stand on." Then to the boatswain—

"Mr Catwell, have the men gone to breakfast?"

"No, sir, but they are just going."

"Then pipe belay with breakfast for a minute, will you? All hands make sail!"

"Crack on, Mr Yerk, and let us overhaul this small swaggerer."

In a trice we had all sail set, and were staggering along on the larboard tack, close upon a wind. We hauled out from the merchant ships like smoke, and presently the schooner was seen from the deck.—"Go to breakfast now." The crew disappeared, all to the officers, man at the helm, quartermaster at the conn, and signalman.

The first lieutenant had the book open on the drum of the capstan before him. "Make our number," said the Captain. It was done. "What does she answer?"

The signalman answered from the fore—rigging, where he had perched himself with his glass—"She makes the signal to telegraph, sir—3, 9, 2, at the fore, sir"—and so on; which translated was simply this—"The Wave, with despatches from the admiral."

"Oh, ho," said Transom; "what is she sent for? Whenever the people have got their breakfast, tack, and stand towards her, Mr Yerk."

The little vessel approached.—"Shorten sail, Mr Yerk, and heave the ship to," said the Captain to the first lieutenant.

"Ay, ay, sir."

"All hands, Mr Catwell."

Presently the boatswain's whistle rung sharp and clear, while his gruff voice, to which his mates bore any thing but mellow burdens, echoed through the ship—"All hands shorten sail—fore and mainsails haul up haul down to jib—in topgallant sails—now back the main—topsail."

By heaving—to, we brought the Wave on our weather bow. She was now within a cable's length of the corvette; the captain was standing on the second foremost, gun, on the larboard side. "Mafame," to his steward, "hand me up my trumpet." He hailed the little vessel "Ho, the Wave, ahoy!"

Presently the responding "hillo" came down the wind to us from the officer in command of her, like an echo—"Run under our stern and heave to, to leeward."

"Ay, ay, sir."

As the Wave came to the wind, she lowered down her boat, and Mr Jigmaree, the boatswain of the dockyard in Jamaica, came on board, and, touching his hat, presented his despatches to the Captain. Presently he and the skipper retired into the cabin, and all hands were inspecting the Wave in her new character of one of his Britannic Majesty's cruisers. When I had last seen her she was a most beautiful little craft, both in hull and rigging, as ever delighted the eye of a sailor; but the dockyard riggers and carpenters had fairly bedeviled her, at least so far as appearances went. First, they had replaced the light rail on her gunwale, by heavy solid bulwarks four feet high, surmounted by hammock nettings, at least another foot, so that the symmetrical little vessel, that formerly floated on the foam light as a seagull, now looked like a clumsy dish—shaped Dutch dogger. Her long slender wands of masts, which used to swig about, as if there were neither shrouds nor stays to support them, were now as taut and stiff as church steeples, with four heavy shrouds of a side, and stays and back—stays, and the Devil knows what all.

"Now," quoth Tailtackle, "if them heave'emtaughts at the yard have not taken the speed out of the little beauty, I am a Dutchman." Timotheus, I may state in the bygoing, was not a Dutchman; he was fundamentally any thing but a Dutchman; but his opinion was sound, and soon verified to my cost. Jigmaree now approached.

"The Captain wants you in the cabin, sir," said he. I descended, and found the skipper seated at a table with his clerk beside him, and several open letters lying before him. "Sit down, Mr Cringle." I took a chair. "There—read that," and he threw an open letter across the table to me, which ran as follows:

SIR,

"The Vice—Admiral, commanding on the Jamaica station, desires me to say, that the bearer, the boatswain of the dockyard, Mr Luke Jigmaree, has instructions to cruise for, and if possible to fall in with you, before you weather Cape Maize, and falling in with you, to deliver up charge of the vessel to you, as well as of the five negroes, and the pilot, Peter Mangrove, who are on board of her. The Wave having been armed and fitted with every thing considered necessary, you are to man her with thirty—five of your crew, including officers, and to place her under the command of Lieutenant Thomas Cringle, who is to be furnished with a copy of this letter authenticated by your signature, and to whom you will give written instructions, that he is first of all to cruise in the great Cuba channel, until the 14th proximo, for the prevention of piracy, and the suppression of the slave—trade carried on between the island of Cuba and the coast of Africa, and to detain and carry into Havanna, or Nassau, New Providence, all vessels having slaves on board, which he may have reason to believe have been shipped beyond the prescribed limits on the African coast as specified in the margin; and after the 14th he is to proceed direct to New Providence if unsuccessful, there to land Mr Jigmaree, and the dockyard negroes, and await your return from the northward, after having seen the merchantmen clear of the Caicos passage. When you have rejoined the Wave at Nassau, you are to proceed with her as your tender to Crooked Island, and there to await instructions from the Vice—Admiral, which shall be transmitted by the packet to sail on the 9th proxinio, to the care of the postmaster. I have the honour to be, sir, your obedient servant." ————, Sec.

To the Hon. Captain Transom, etc.

To say sooth, I was by no means amorous of this independent command, as an idea had, at the time I speak of, gone abroad in the navy, the lieutenants, commanding small vessels, seldom rose higher, unless through extraordinary interest, and I took the liberty of stating my repugnance to my captain.

He smiled, and threw over another letter to me; it was a private one from the Admiral's Secretary, and was as follows:(Confidential.)

My DEAR TRANSOM,

"The Vice Admiral has got a hint from Sir——, to kick that wild splice, young Cringle, about a bit. It seems he is a nephew of Old Blueblazes, and as he has taken a fancy to the lad, he has promised his mother that he will do his utmost to give him opportunities of being knocked on the head, for all of which the old lady has professed herself wonderfully indebted. As the puppy has peculiar notions, hint, directly or indirectly, that he is not to be permanently bolted down to the little and that if half a dozen skippers (you, my darling, among the rest) were to evaporate during the approaching hot months, he may have some small chance of t'other swab. Write me, and mind the claret and curacoa. Put no address on either; and on coming to anchor, send notice to old Peterkin in the lodge at the Master Attendant's, and he will relieve you and the pies de gallo, some calm evening, of all farther trouble regarding them. Don't forget the turtle from Crooked Island, and the cigars."

"Always, my dear Transom,"

"Yours sincerely,"

"Oh, I forgot. The Admiral begs you will spare him some steady old hands to act as gunner, boatswain, &c.—elderly men, if you please, who will shorten sail before the squall strikes him. If you float him away with a crew of boys, the little scamp will get bothered, or capsized, in a jiffy. All this for your worship's government. How do you live with your passenger—prime follow, an't he? My love to him. Lady——is dying to see him again."

"WELL, MR CRINGLE, what say you?"

"Of course, I must obey, sir;—highly flattered by Mr Secretary's good opinion, any how."

The Captain laughed heartily.

"It is nearly calm, I see. We must set about manning this seventy four for you, without delay. So, come along, Captain Cringle."

When we got on deck,—"Hail the Wave to close, Mr Yerk," said Transom. "Lower away the boat, and pipe away the yaulers, boatswain's mate."

Presently the Captain and I were on the Wave's deck, where I was much surprised to find no less personages than Pepperpot Wagtail, and Paul Gelid, Esquires. Mr Gelid, a conch, or native of the Bahamas, was the same yawning, drawling, long—legged Creole as ever. He had been ill with fever, and had asked a passage to Nassau, where his brother was established. At bottom, however, he was an excellent fellow, warm hearted, honourable, and upright. As for little Wagtail—oh, he was a delight!—a small round man, with all the Jamaica Creole irritability of temper, but also all the Jamaica warmth of heart about him straightforward, and scrupulously conscientious in his dealings, but devoted to good cheer in every shape. He had also been ailing, and had adventured on the cruise in order to recruit. I scarcely know how to describe his figure better than by comparing his corpus to an egg, with his little feet stuck through the bottom of the shell; but he was amazingly active withal.

Both the Captain and myself were rejoiced to see our old friends; and it was immediately fixed that they should go on board the corvette, and sling their cots alongside of Mr Bang, so long as the courses—of the two vessels lay together. This being carried into execution, we set about our arrangements. Our precious blockheads at the dockyard had fitted a thirty—two pound carronade on the pivot, and stuck two long sixes, one on each side of the little vessel. I hate carronades. I had, before now, seen thirty—two pound shot thrown by them jump off a ship's side with a rebound like a football, when a shot from an eighteen— pounder long gun went crash, at the same range, through both sides of the ship, whipping off a leg and arm, or aiblins a head or two, in its transit.

"My dear sir," said I, "don't shove me adrift with that old pot there do lend me one of your long brass eighteen—pounders."

"Why, Master Cringle, what is your antipathy to carronades?"

"I have no absolute antipathy to them, sir—they are all very well in their way. For instance, I wish you would fit me with two twelvepound carronades instead of those two popgun long sixes. These, with thirty muskets, and thirty—five men or so, would make me very complete."

"A modest request," said Captain Transom.

"Now, Tom Cringle, you have overshot your mark, my fine fellow," thought I; butjit was all right, and that forenoon the cutter was hoisted out with the guns in her, and the others dismounted and sent back in exchange; and in fine, after three days' hard work, I took the command of H.B.M. schooner, Wave, with Timothy Tailtackle as gunner, the senior midshipman as master, one of the carpenter's crew as carpenter, and a boatswain's—mate as boatswain, a surgeon's mate as surgeon, the captain's clerk as purser, and thirty foremast—men, besides the blackies, as the crew. But the sailing of the little beauty had been regularly spoiled. We could still in light winds weather on' the corvette, it is true, but then she was a slow top, unless it blew half a gale of wind; and as for going any thing free, why a sand barge would have beaten us.—We kept company with the Firebrand until we weathered Cape Maize. It was near five o'clock in the afternoon, the corvette was about half a mile on our lee—bow, when, while walking the deck, after an early dinner, Tailtackle came up to me.

"The Commodore has hove—to, sir."

"Very like," said I; "to allow the merchant—ships to close, I presume."

"A gun," said little Reefpoint. "Ah—what signal now?"—It was the signal to close.

"Put the helm up and run down to him," said I. It was done—and presently the comfortable feeling of bowling along before the breeze, succeeded the sharp yerking digging motion of the little vessel, tearing and pitching through a head sea, close upon a wind. The water was buzzing under our bows, and we were once more close under the stern of the corvette. There was a boat alongside ready manned. The Captain hailed, "I sent your orders on board, Mr Cringle, to bear up on your separate cruise." At the same moment, the Firebrand's ensign and pennant were hoisted—we did the same—a gun from the Commodore—ditto from the tidy little Wave—and lo! Thomas Cringle, esquire, launched for the first time on his own bottom.

By this time the boat was alongside, with Messieurs Aaron Bang, Pepperpot Wagtail, and Paul Gelid—the former with his cot, and half a dozen cases of wine, and some pigs, and some poultry, all under the charge of his black servant.

"Hillo," said I—"Mr Wagtail is at home here, you know, Mr Bang, and so is Mr Gelid; but to what lucky chance am I indebted for your society, my dear sir?"

"Thank your stars, Tom—Captain Cringle, I beg pardon—and be grateful; I am sick of rumbling tumbling in company with these heavy tools of merchantmen, so I entreated Transom to let me go and take a turn with you, promising to join the Firebrand again at Nassau."

"Why, I am delighted,"—and so I really was. "But, my dear sir—I may lead you a dance, and, peradventure into trouble—a small vessel may catch a Tartar, you know.

"D—n the expense," rejoined my jovial ally; "why, the hot little epicurean Wagtail, and Gelid, cold and frozen as he is, have both taken a fancy to me—and no wonder, knowing my pleasant qualities as they do ahem; so, for their sakes, I volunteer on this piece of knight—errantry as much as'—

"Poo—you be starved, Aaron dear," rapped out little Wagtail; "you came here, because you thought you should have more fun, and escape the formality of the big ship, and eke the Captain's sour claret."

"Ah," said Gelid, "my fine fellow," with his usual Creole drawl, "you did not wait for my opinion. Ah—oh—why, Captain Cringle, a thousand pardons. Friend Bang, there, swears that he can't do without you; and all he says about me is neither more nor less than humbug—ah."

"My lovely yellowsnake," quoth Aaron, "and my amiable dumpling, gentlemen both, now, do hold your tongues.—Why, Tom, here we are, never you mind how, after half a quarrel with the skipper—will you take us, or will you send us back, like rejected addresses?"

"Send you back, my boys! No, no, too happy to get you." Another gun from the corvette. "Firebrands, you must shove off. My compliments, Wiggins, to the Captain, and there's a trifle for you to drink my health, when you get into port." The boat shoved off—the corvette filled her maintopsail. "Put the helm down—ease off the mainsheet stand by to run up the squaresail. How is her head, Mr Tailtackle?"

Timothy gave a most extraordinary grin at my bestowing the Mister on him for the first time.

"North—west, sir."

"Keep her so"—and having bore up, we rapidly widened our distance from the Commodore and the fleet.

All men know, or should know, that on board of a man—of—war, there is never any "yo heave oh'ing." That is confined to merchant vessels. But when the crew are having a strong pull of any rope, it is allowable for the man next the belaying pin, to sing out, in order t@6 give unity to the drag, "one—two—three," the strain of the other men increasing with the figure. The tack of the mainsail had got jammed somehow, and on my desiring it to be hauled up, the men, whose province it was, were unable to start it.

"Something foul aloft," said I.

Tailtackle came up. "What are you fiddling at, men? Give me here—one two—three."

Crack went the strands of the rope under the paws of the Titan, whereby the head of the outermost sailor pitched right into Gelid's stomach, knocked him over and capsized him head foremost into the wind sail which was let down through the skylight into the little well cabin of the schooner. It so happened that there was a bucket full of Spanish brown paint standing on the table in the cabin, right below the hoop of the canvass funnel, and into it plopped the august pate of Paul Gelid, esquire. Bang had, in the meantime, caught him by the heels, and with the assistance of Pearl, the handsome negro formerly noticed, who, from his steadiness, had been spared to me as a quartermaster, the conch was once more hoisted on deck, with a scalp of red paint, reaching down over his eyes.

"I say," quoth Bang, "Gelid, my darling, not quite so smooth as the real Macassar, eh? Shall I try my hand—can shave beautifully—eh?"

"Ah," drawled Gelid, "don't require it—lucky my head was shaved in that last fever, Aaron dear. Ah—let me think—you tall man—you sailor— fellow—ah—do me the favour to scrape me with your knife—ah—and pray call my servant."

Timothy, to whom he had addressed himself, set to, and scraped the red paint off his poll; and having called his servant, Chew Chew, handed him over to the negro, who, giving his arm to him, helped him below, and with the assistance of Cologne water, contrived to scrub him decently clean.

As the evening fell, the breeze freshened; and during the night it blew strong, so that from the time we bore up, and parted company with the Firebrand, until day—dawn next morning, we had run I30 miles or thereby to the northward and westward, and were then on the edge of the Great Bahama Bank. The breeze now failed us, and we lay roasting in the sun until mid—day, the current sweeping us to the northward, and still farther on to the bank, until the water shoaled to three fathoms. At this time the sun was blazing fiercely right overhead; and from the shallowness of the water, there was not the smallest swell, or undulation of the surface. The sea, as far as the eye could reach, was a sparkling light green, from the snow—white sand at the bottom, as if a level desert had been suddenly submerged under a few feet of crystal clear water, which formed a cheery spectacle, when compared with the customary leaden, or dark blue—colour of the rolling fathomless ocean. It was now dead calm.—"Fishing lines there—Idlers, fishing lines," said I; and in a minute there were forty of them down over the side.

In Europe, fish in their shapes partake of the sedate character of the people who inhabit the coasts of the seas or rivers in which they swim at least I think so. The salmon, the trout, the cod, and all the other tribes of the finny people, are reputable in their shapes, and altogether respectable—looking creatures. But, within the tropics, Dame Nature plays strange vagaries; and here, on the great Bahama Bank, every new customer, as he floundered in on deck—no joke to him, poor fellow—elicited shouts of laughter from the crew. They were in no respect shaped like fish of our cold climates; some were all head others all tail—some, so far as shape went, had their heads where, with submission, I conceived their tails should have been; and then the colours, the intense brilliancy of the scales of these monstrous looking animals! We hooked up a lot of bonitos, 10 Lbs apiece, at the least. But Wagtail took small account of them.

"Here," said Bang, at this moment, "by all that is wonderful, look here!" And he drew up a fish about a foot long, with a crop like a pigeon of the tumbler kind, which began to make a loud snorting noise.

"Ah," drawled Gelid, "good fish, with claret sauce."

"Daresay," rejoined Aaron; "but do your Bahama fish speak, Paul, eh? Balaam's ass was a joke to this fellow."

I have already said that the water was not quite three fathoms deep, and it was so clear that I could see down to the very sand, and there were the fish cruising about in great numbers.

"Haul in, Wagtail—you have hooked him," and up came a beautiful black grouper, about four pounds weight.

"Ah, there is the regular jiggery—jiggery," sung out little Reefpoint, at the same moment, as he in turn began to pull up his line. "Stand by to land him," and a red snapper, for all the world like a gigantic gold fish, was hauled on board; and so we carried on, black snappers, red snappers, and rock fish, and a vast variety, for all of which, however, Wagtail had names pat, until at length I caught a most lovely dolphin—a beauty to look at—but dry, terribly dry to eat. I cast it on the deck, and the chameleon tints of the dying fish, about which so many lies have been said and sung, were just beginning to fade, and wax pale, and ashy, and deathlike, when I felt another strong jiggery jiggery at my line, which little Reefpoint had, in the meantime, baited afresh. "Zounds! I have caught a whale—a shark at the very least" and I pulled him in, hand over hand.

"A most noble Jew fish," said I.

"A Jew fish!" responded Wagtail.

"A Jew fish!" said Aaron Bang.

"A Jew fish!" said Paul Gelid.

"My dear Cringle," continued Wagtail, "when do you dine?"

"At three, as usual."

"Then, Mr Reefpoint, will you have the great kindness to cast off your sink, and hook that splendid fellow by the tail—only through the gristle—don't prick him in the flesh—and let him meander about till half—past two?"

Reefy was half inclined to be angry at the idea of his Majesty's officer being converted into a cook's mate.

"Why," said I, "we shall put him in a tub of water, here on deck, Mr Wagtail, if you please."

"God bless me, no!" quoth the gastronome. "Why, he is strong as an eagle, and will smash himself to mummy in half an hour in a tub. No—no see, he weighs twelve pounds at the very lightest. Lord! Mr Cringle, I am surprised at you."

The fish was let overboard again, according to his desire, and hauled in at the very moment he indicated by his watch, when, having seen him cut up and cleaned, with his own eyes—I believe I may say with his own hands—he betook himself to his small crib to dress.

At dinner our Creole friend was very entertaining. Bang drew him out, and had him to talk on all his favourite topics in a most amusing manner. All at once Gelid lay back on his chair.

"My God," said he, "I have broken my tooth with that confounded hard biscuit—terrible—really: ah!"—and he screwed up his face, as if he had been eating sourcrout, or had heard of the death of a dear friend.

"Poo," quoth Aaron, "any comb maker will furnish you forth as good as new; those grinders you brag of are not your own, Gelid, you know that."

"Indeed, Aaron, my dear, I know nothing of the kind; but this I know, that I have broken a most lovely white front tooth, ah!"

"Oh, you be hanged," said Aaron; "why, you have been bechopped any time these ten years, I know."

The time wore on, and it might have been half past seven when we went on deck.

It was a very dark night—Tailtackle had the watch. "Any thing in sight, Mr Tailtackle?"

"Why, no, sir; but I have just asked your steward for your night glass, as, once or twice—but it is so thick—Pray, sir, how far are we off the Hole in the Wall?"

"Why, sixty miles at the least."

The Hole in the Wall is a very remarkable rock in the Crooked Island Passage, greatly resembling, as the name betokens, a wall breached by the sea, or by battering cannon, which rises abruptly out of the water, to a height of forty feet.

"Then," quoth Tailtackle sharply, "there must be a sail close aboard of us, to windward there."

"Where?" said I. "Quick, send for my night—glass."

"I have it here in my hand, sir."

"Let me see"—and I peered through it until my eyes ached again. I could see nothing, and resumed my walk on the quarterdeck. Tailtackle, in the meantime, continued to look through the telescope, and as I turned from aft to walk forward, a few minutes after this—"Why, sir," said he, "it clears a bit, and I see the object that has puzzled me again."

"Eh? give me the glass"—in a second I caught it. "By Jupiter, you say true, Tailtackle! beat to quarters—quick—clear away the long gun forward there!"

All was bustle for a minute. I kept my eye on the object, but I could not make out more, than that it was a strange sail; I could neither judge of her size nor her rig, from the distance, and the extreme darkness of the night. At length I handed the glass to Tailtackle again. We were at this time standing in towards the Cuba shore, with a fine breeze, and going along seven knots, as near as could be.

"Give the glass to Mr Jigmaree, Mr Tailtackle, and come forward here, and see all snug."

The long gun was slewed round—both carronades were run out, all three being loaded, double shotted, and carefully primed—the whole crew, with our black supernumeraries, being at quarters.

"I see her quite distinct now, sir," sung out Timotheus.

"Well, what looks she like?"

"A large brig, sir, by the wind on the same tack—you can see her now without the glass—there—with the naked eye."

I looked, and certainly fancied I saw some towering object rising high and dark to windward, like some mighty spectre walking the deep, but I could discern nothing more.

"She is a large vessel, sure enough, sir," said Timothy once more "now she is hauling up her courses, sir—she takes in topgallant sails why, she is bearing up across our bows, sir—mind she don't rake us."

"The deuce!" said I. I now saw the chase very distinctly bear up. "Put the helm up—keep her away a bit—steady at that will do—fire a shot across her bows, Mr Tailtackle—and, Mr Reefpoint, show the private signal." The gun was fired, and the lights shown, but our spectral friend was all darkness and silence. "Mr Scarfemwell," said I to the carpenter, "stand by the long gun. Tailtackle, I don't like that chap open the magazine." By this time the strange sail was on our quarter, we shortened sail, while he, finding that his manoeuvre of crossing our bows had been foiled by our bearing up also, got the foretack on board again, and set his topgallant sails, all very cleverly. He was not far out of pistol—shot. Tailtackle, in his shirt and trowsers, and felt shoes, now stuck his head up the main hatchway.

"I would recommend your getting the hatches on, sir—that fellow is not honest, sir, take my word for it."

"Never mind, Mr Tailtackle, never mind. Forward, there; Mr Jigmaree, slap a round shot into him, since he won't speak, or heave to—right between his masts, do you hear—are you ready?"

"All ready, sir." "Fire." The gun was fired, and simultaneously we heard a crash on board the strange sail, followed by a piercing yell, similar to what the negroes raise over a dead comrade, and then a long melancholy howl.

"A slaver, and the shot has told, sir," said Mr Handlead, the master.

"Then we shall have some fun for it," thought I. I had scarcely spoken, when the brig once more shortened sail; and the instant that the foresail rose, he let fly his bow gun at us—then another, another, and another.

"Nine guns of a side, as I am a sinner," quoth jigmaree; and three of the shot struck us, mortally wounded one poor fellow, and damaged poor little Reefy by a splinter in the side.

"Stand by, men—take good aim—fire"—and we again let drive the long gun and carronade; but our friend was too quick for us, for by this time he had once more hauled his wind, and made sail as close to it as he could stagger. We crowded every thing in chase, but he had the heels of us, and in an hour he was once more nearly out of sight in the dark night, right to windward.

"Keep, at him, Mr Jigmaree;" and as I feared he was running us in under the land, I dived to consult the chart. There, in the cabin, I found Wagtail, Gelid, and Bang, sitting smoking on each side of the small table, with some brandy and water before them.

"Ah," quoth Gelid, "ah! fighting a little? Not pleasant in the evening, certainly."

"Confound you," said Aaron, "why will you bother at this awkward moment?"

Meanwhile Wagtail was a good deal discomposed.

"My dear fellow, hand me over that deviled biscuit."

Bang handed him over the dish, slipping into it some fragments of ship biscuit, as hard as flint. All this time I was busy poring over the chart. Wagtail took up a piece and popt it into his mouth.

"Zounds, Bang—my dear Aaron, what dentist are you in league with? Gelid first breaks his pet fang, and now you"—

"Poo, poo," quoth his friend, "don't bother now—hillo—what the deuce I say, Wagtail—Gelid, my lad, look there"—as one of the seamen, with another following him, brought down on his back the poor fellow who had been wounded, and laid his bloody load on the table.

To those who are unacquainted with these matters, it may be right to say, that the captain's cabin, in a small vessel like the Wave, is often in an emergency used as a cockpit—and so it was in the present instance.

"Beg pardon, Captain and gentlemen," said the surgeon, "but I must, I fear, perform an ugly operation on this poor fellow. I fancy you had better go on deck, gentlemen."

Now I had an opportunity to see of what sterling metal my friends were at bottom made. Mr Bang in a twinkling had his coat off.

"Doctor, I can be of use, I know it—no skill, but steady nerves," although he had reckoned a leetle without his host here,—"And I can swathe a bandage too, although no surgeon," said Wagtail.

Gelid said nothing, but he was in the end the best surgeon's mate amongst them. The poor fellow, Wiggins, one of the captain's gigs, and a most excellent man, in quarterdeck parlance, was now laid on the table a fine handsome young fellow, faint and pale, very pale, but courageous as a lion, even in his extremity. It appeared that a round shot had shattered his leg above the knee. A tourniquet had been applied on his thigh, and there was not much bleeding.

"Captain," said the poor fellow, while Bang supported him in his arms, "I shall do yet, sir; indeed I have no great pain."

All this time the surgeon was cutting off his trowsers, and then, to be sure, a terrible spectacle presented itself. The foot and leg, blue and shrunk, were connected with the thigh by a band of muscle about two inches wide, and an inch thick; that fined away to a bunch of white tendons or sinews at the knee, which again swelled out as they melted into the muscles of the calf of the leg; but as for the knee bone, it was smashed to pieces, leaving white spikes protruding from the shattered limb above, as well as from the shank beneath. The doctor gave the poor fellow a large dose of laudanum in a glass of brandy, and then proceeded to amputate the limb, high up on the thigh. Bang stood the knife part of it very steadily, but the instant the saw rasped against the shattered bone he shuddered.

"I am going, Cringle—can't stand that—sick as a dog"—and he was so faint that I had to relieve him in supporting the poor fellow. Wagtail had also to go on deck, but Paul Gelid remained firm as a rock. The limb was cut off, the arteries taken up very cleverly, and the surgeon was in the act of slacking the tourniquet a little, when the thread that fastened the largest, or femoral artery, suddenly gave way and a gush like the jet from a fire—engine took place. The poor fellow had just time to cry out, "Take that cold hand off my heart!" when his chest collapsed, his jaw fell, and in an instant his pulse stopped.

"Dead as Julius Caesar, Captain," said Gelid, with his usual deliberation. Dead enough, thought I; and I was leaving the cabin to resume my post on deck, when I stumbled against something at the ladder foot.

"My, what is that?" grumbled I.

"It is me, sir," said a small faint voice.

"You!—who are you?"

"Reefpoint, sir."

"Bless me, boy, what are you doing here? Not hurt, I hope?"

"A little, sir—a graze from a splinter, sir—the same shot that struck poor Wiggins knocked it off, sir."

"Why did you not go to the doctor, then, Mr Reefpoint?"

"I waited till he was done with Wiggins, sir; but now, since it is all over with him, I will go and be dressed."

His voice grew fainter and fainter, until I could scarcely hear him. I got him in my arms, and helped him into the cabin, where, on stripping the poor little fellow, it was found that he was much hurt on the right side, just above the hip. Bang's kind heart, for by this time a glass of water had cured him of his faintness, shone conspicuous on this occasion.

"Why, Reefy—little Reefy—you are not hurt, my man—Surely you are not wounded—such a little fellow,—I should have as soon thought of firing at a musquitto."

"Indeed, sir, but I am; see here."—Bang looked at the hurt, as he supported the wounded midshipman in his arms.

"God help me," said the excellent fellow, "you seem to me fitter for your mother's nursery, my poor dear boy, than to be knocked about in this coarse way here."

Reefy, at this moment, fell over into his arms, in a dead faint.

"You must take my berth, with the Captain's permission," said Aaron, while he and Wagtail undressed him with the greatest care, and placed him in the narrow crib.

"Thank you, my dear sir," moaned little Reefpoint; "were my mother here, sir she would thank you too."

Stern duty now called me on deck, and I heard no more. The night was still very dark, and I could see nothing of the chase, but I made all the sail I could in the direction which I calculated she would steer, trusting that, before morning, we might get another glimpse of her. In a little while Bang came on deck.

"I say, Tom, now since little Reefy is asleep—what think you big craft that—nearly caught a Tartar—not very sorry he has escaped, eh?"

"Why, my dear sir, I trust he has not escaped; I hope, when the day breaks, now since we have less wind, that we may have a tussle with him yet."

"No, you don't wish it, do you, really and truly?"

"Indeed, I do, sir; and the only thing which bothers me is the peril that you and your friends must necessarily encounter."

"Poo, poo, don't mind us, Tom, don't mind us; but an't he too big for you, Tom?"

He said this in such a comical way, that, for the life of me, I could not help laughing.

"Why, we shall see; but attack him I must, and shall, if I can get at him. However, we shall wait till morning; so I recommend your turning in, now since they have cleared away the cockpit out of the cabin; so good—night, my dear sir—I must stay here, I fear."

"Good—night, Tom; God bless you. I shall go and comfort Wagtail and Paul."

I was at this time standing well aft on the larboard side of the deck, close abaft of the tiller—rope, so that, with no earthly disposition to be an eavesdropper, I could neither help seeing nor hearing what was going on in the cabin, as the small open skylight was close to my All vestiges of the cockpit had been cleared away, and the table was laid for supper. Wagtail and Gelid were sitting on the side I stood on, so that I could not see them, although I heard every word they said. Presently Bang entered, and sat down opposite his allies. He crossed his arms, and leant down over the table, looking at them steadily.

"My dear Aaron," I could hear little Wagtail say, "speak, man, don't frighten a body so."

"Ah, Bang," drawled out Paul, "jests are good, being well—timed; what can you mean by that face of yours now, since the fighting is all over?"

My curiosity fairly overcame my good manners, and I moved round more amidships, so as to command a view of both parties, as they sat opposite each other at the narrow table.

Bang still held his peace for another minute; at length, in a very solemn tone, he said, "Gentlemen, do you ever say your prayers?" I don't know if I mentioned it before, but Aaron had a most musical deep mellow voice, and now it absolutely thrilled to my very soul.

Wagtail and Paul looked at him, and then at each other, with a most absurd expression—between fear and jest—between crying and laughing but gave him no answer.

"Are you, my lads, such blockheads as to be ashamed to acknowledge that you say your prayers?"

"Ah," aid Gelid, "why, ah no—not—that is"

"Oh, you Catholics are all so bigoted,—I suppose we should cross ourselves, eh?" said Wagtail hastily.

"I am a Catholic, Master Wagtail," rejoined Bang—"better that than nothing. Before sunrise, we may both have proved the truth of our creeds, if you have one; but if you mean it as a taunt, Wagtail, it does discredit to your judgment to select such a moment, to say nothing of your heart. However, you cannot make me angry with you, Pepperpot, you little Creole wasp, do as you will." A slight smile here curled Aaron's lip for an instant, although he immediately resumed the solemn tone in which he had previously spoken.—"But I had hoped that two such old friends, as you both have been to me, would not altogether have made up their minds in cold blood, if advertised of their danger, to run the chance of dying like dogs in a ditch, without one preparatory thought towards that tremendous Being, before whom we may all stand before morning."

"Murder!" quoth Wagtail, fairly frightened; "are you really serious, Aaron? I did not—would not, for the world, hurt your feelings in earnest, my dear; why do you desire so earnestly to know whether or not I ever say my prayers?"

"Oh, don't bother, man," rejoined Bang, resuming his usual friendly tone; "you had better say boldly that you do not, without any roundaboutation."

"But why, my dear Bang, why do you ask the question?" persisted Wagtail, in a deuced quandary.

"Simply,"—and here our friend's voice once more fell to the low deep serious tone in which he had opened the conference,—"simply because, in my humble estimation, if you don't say your prayers tonight, it is three to one you shall never pray again."

"The deuce!" said Pepperpot, twisting himself in all directions, as if his inexpressibles had been nailed to his seat, and he was trying to escape from them. "What, in the devil's name, mean you, man?"

"I mean neither more nor less than what I say. I speak English, don't I? I say, that that pestilent young fellow Cringle told me half an hour ago, that he was determined, as he words it, to stick to this Guineaman, who is three times his size, has eighteen guns, while Master Tommy has only three; and whose crew, I will venture to say, triples our number; and the snipe, from what I know of him, is the very man to keep his word so what say you, my darling, eh?"

"Ah, very inconvenient, ah,—I shall stay below," said Paul.

"So shall I," quoth Pepperpot; "won't stick my nose on deck, Aaron dear, no, not for the whole world."

"Why," said Bang, in the same steady low tone, "you shall do as you please, ah,"—and here he very successfully imitated our amigo Gelid's drawl—"and as best suits you, ah; but I have consulted the gunner, an old ally of mine, who, to be plain with you—ah—says that the danger from splinter wounds below, is much greater than from their musketry on deck—ah—the risk from the round shot being pretty equal—ah—in either situation." At this announcement you could have jumped down either Wagtail's or Gelid's throat,—Wagtail's for choice—without touching their teeth. "Farther, the aforesaid Timothy, and be hanged to him, deponeth, that the only place in a small vessel where we could have had a moderate chance of safety was the Run,—so called, I presume, from people running to it for safety; but where the deuce this sanctuary is situated I know not, nor does it signify greatly, for it is now converted into a spare powder magazine, and of course sealed to us. So here we are, my lads, in as neat a taking as ever three unfortunate gentlemen were in, in this weary world. However, now since I have comforted you, let us go to bed—time enough to think on all this in the morning, and I am consumedly tired."

I heard no more, and resumed my solitary walk on deck, peering every now and then through the night—glass, until my eyes ached again. The tedious night at length wore away, and the grey dawn found me sound asleep, leaning out at the gangway. They had scarcely begun to wash down the decks, when we discerned our friend of the preceding night, about four miles to windward, close hauled on the same tack, apparently running in for the Cuba shore, as fast as canvass could carry him. If this was his object, we had proved too quick for him, as by casting off stays, and slacking shrouds, and, in every way we could think of, loosening the rigid trim of the little vessel, we had in a great measure recovered her sailing; so when he found he was cut off from the land, he resolutely bore up, took in his top—gallant sails, hauled up his courses, fired a gun, and hoisted his large Spanish ensign, all in regular man—of—war fashion. By this time it was broad daylight, and Wagtail, Gelid, and Bang, were all three on deck, performing their morning ablutions. As for myself, I was well forward, near the long gun. Pegtop, Mr Bang's black valet, came up to me.

"Please, Massa Captain, can you spare me any muskets?"

"Any muskets?" said I; "why, half a dozen if you choose."

"De wery number my massa told me to hax for. Tank you, Massa Captain." And forthwith he and the other two black servants in attendance on Wagtail and Gelid, each seized his two muskets out of the arm—chest, with the corresponding ammunition, and, like so many sable Robinson Crusoes, were stumping aft, when I again accosted the aforesaid Pegtop.

"I say, my man, now since you have got the muskets, does your master really intend to fight?" The negro stopped short, and faced right round, his countenance expressing very great surprise and wonderment. "Massa Bang fight? Massa Aaron Bang fight?" and he looked up in my face with the most seriocomic expression that could be imagined. "Ah, massa," continued the poor fellow,—"you is joking—surely you is joking—my Massa Aaron Bang fight? Oh, massa, surely you can't know he—surely you never see him shoot snipe, and wild—duck—oh dear, why him kill wild duck on de wing—ah, me often see him knock down teal wid single ball, one hundred—ah, one hundred and fifty yards—and man surely more big mark den teal?"

"Granted," I said; "but a teal has not a loaded musket in its claws, a Spanish buccaneer may have a small difference, Master Pegtop, that?"

"None at all, master," chimed in Pegtop, "very energetically myshef, Gabriel Pegtop, Christian man as me is, am one of de Falmouth black shot. Ah, I have been in de woods wid Massa Aaron, one time particular, when dem wery debils, Sambo Moses, Corromantee Tom, and Eboe Peter, took to de bush, at Crabyaw estate—after breakfast—ten black shot me was one, go out along wid our good massa, Massa Aaron. Oh Lord, we walk troo de cool wood, and over de hot cleared ground, six hour, when every body say,—No use dis, Massa Bang—all we tired too much—must stop here—kindle fire—cook wittal. Ah, top dem who hab white liver, said Massa Aaron; you, Pegtop, take you fusee and cutlass, and follow me, my shild—Massa Aaron alway call me him shild, and troo enough, as parson Calaloo say, him family wery much like Joseph coat—many colour among dem, massa—though none quite so deep as mine eider"—and here the negro grinned at his own jest. "Well, I was follow him, or rader was go before him, opening up de pass wid me cutlass, troo de wery tangle underwood. We walk four hour—see no one, all still and quiet—no breeze shake de tree—oh, I sweat too much—dem hot, massa, sun shine right down, when we could catch glimpse of him—yet no trace of de runaways. At length, on turning corner, perched on small platform of rock, overshadowed by plumes of bamboos, like ostrich feather lady wear at de ball, who shall we see but dem wery dividual d——rascail I was mention, standing all tree, each wid one carabine pointed at us, at him shoulder, and cutlass at him side? Pegtop, my boy, said Massa Aaron, we is in for it—follow me, but don't fire. So him pick off Sambo Moses—oh! cool as one cucumber. Now, say he, man to man,—and wid dat him tro him gun on de ground, and drawing him cutlass, we push up—in one moment him and Corromantee Tom close. Tom put up him hand to fend him head whip—ah—massa cutlass shred de hand at de wrist, like one carrot down Tom go—atop of him jump Massa Aaron. I master de leetle one, Eboe Peter, and we carry dem both prisoners into Falmouth.—Massa Aaron fight? Ah, massa, no hax dat question again."

"Well, but will Mr Gelid fight?" said I.

"I tink him will too—great friend of Massa Bang—good duck—shot too oh yes, fink Massa Paul will fight."

"Why," said I, "your friends are all heroes, Pegtop—will Mr Wagtail fight also?" He stole close up to me, and exchanged his smart Creole gibberish for a quiet sedate accent, as he whispered.

"Not so sure of he—nice little fat man, but too fond of him belly. When I wait behind Massa Aaron chair, Pegtop sometime hear funny ting. One gentleman say—Ah, dat month we hear Lord Wellington take Saint Sebastian—when dat is, what time we hear dat news, Massa Wagtail? him say.—Eh, say Massa Wagtail—oh, we hear of dem news, dat wery day de first of de ringtail pigeon come to market. Den again, Dat big fight dem had at soch anoder place, when we hear of dat, Massa Wagtail?—say somebody else. Oh, oh, de wery day we hab dat beautiful grouper wid claret sauce at Massa Whiffie's. Oh, make me laugh to hear white gentleman mark great fight in him memory by what him eat de day de news come; so, Massa Captain Cringle, me no quite sure weder Massa Wagtail will fight or no."

So saying, Pegtop, Chew Chew, and Yampea, each shouldered two muskets apiece, and betook themselves to the after part of the schooner, where they forthwith set themselves to scour, and oil, and clean the same, in a most skilful manner. I expected the breeze would have freshened as the day broke, but I was disappointed; it fell, towards six o'clock, nearly calm. Come, thought I, we may as well go to breakfast; and my guests and I forthwith sat down to our morning meal. Soon after, the wind died away altogether—and "out sweeps" was the word; but I soon saw we had no chance with the chase at this game, and as to attacking him with the boats, it was entirely out of the question; neither could I, in the prospect of a battle, afford to murder the people, by pulling all day under a roasting sun, against one who could man his sweeps with relays of slaves, without one of his crew putting a finger to them; so I reluctantly laid them in, and there I stood looking at him the whole forenoon, as he gradually drew ahead of us. At length I piped to dinner, and the men having finished theirs, were again on deck; but the calm still continued; and seeing no chance of it freshening, about four in the afternoon we sat down to ours in the cabin. There was little said; my friends, although brave and resolute men, were naturally happy to see the brig creeping away from us, as fighting could only bring them danger; and my own feelings were of that mixed quality, that while I determined to do all I could to bring him to action, it would not have broken my heart had he escaped. We had scarcely finished dinner, however, when the rushing of the water past the run of the little vessel, and the steadiness with which she skimmed along, shewed that the light air had freshened.

Presently Tailtackle came down. "The breeze has set down, sir; the strange sail has got it strong to windward, and brings it along with him cheerily."

"Beat to quarters, then, Tailtackle; all hands stand by to shorten sail. How is she standing?"

"Right down for us, sir."

I went on deck, and there was the Guineaman about two miles to windward, evidently cleared for action, with her decks crowded with men, bowling along steadily under her single—reefed topsails.

I saw all clear. Wagtail and Gelid had followed me on deck, and were now busy with their black servants inspecting the muskets. But Bang still remained in the cabin. I went down. He was gobbling his last plantain, and forking up along with it most respectable slices of cheese, when I entered.

I had seen before I left the deck that an action was now unavoidable, and judging from the disparity of force, I had my own doubts as to the issue. I need scarcely say that I was greatly excited. It was my first command: My future standing in the service depended on my conduct now, and, God help me, I was all this while a mere lad, not more than twenty one years old. A strange indescribable feeling had come over me, and an irresistible desire to disburden my mind to the excellent man before me. I sat down.

"Hey day," quoth Bang, as he laid down his coffee cup; "why, Tom, what ails you? You look deuced pale, my boy."

"Up all night, sir, and bothered all day," said I; "wearied enough, I can tell you."

I felt a strong tremor pervade my whole frame at this moment; and I was impelled to speak by some unknown impulse, which I could not account for nor analyze.

"Mr Bang, you are the only friend whom I could count on in these countries; you know all about me and mine, and, I believe, would willingly do a kind action to my father's son."

"What are you at, Tom, my dear boy? come to the point, man."

"I will. I am distressed beyond measure at having led you and your excellent friends, Wagtail and Gelid, into this danger; but I could not help it, and I have satisfied my conscience on that point; so I have only to entreat that you will stay below, and not unnecessarily expose yourselves. And if I should fall—may I take this liberty, my dear sir," and I involuntarily took his hand,—"if I should fall, and I doubt if I shall ever see the sun set again, as we are fearfully overmatched" Bang struck in.

"Why, if our friend be too big—why not be off then? Pull foot, man, eh?—Havannah under your lee?"

"A thousand reasons against it, my dear sir. I am a young man and a young officer, my character is to make in the service—No, no, it is impossible—an older and more tried hand might have bore up, but I must fight it out. If any stray shot carries me off, my dear sir, will you take"—Mary, I would have said, but I could not pronounce her name for the soul of me—"will you take charge of her miniature, and say I died as I have"—a choking lump rose in my throat, and I could not proceed for a second; "and will you send my writing desk to my poor mother, there are letters in"—the lump grew bigger, the hot tears streamed from my eyes in torrents. I trembled like an aspen leaf, and grasping my excellent friend's hand more firmly, I sunk down on my knees in a passion of tears, and wept like a woman, and fervently prayed to that great God, in whose almighty hand I stood, that I might that day do my duty as an English seaman. Bang knelt by me. Presently the passion was quelled. I rose, and so did he.

"Before you, my dear sir, I am not ashamed to have" "Don't mention it my good boy—don't mention it; neither of us, as the old general said, will fight a bit the worse."

I looked at him. "Do you then mean to fight?" said I.

"To be sure I do—why not? I have no wife,"—he did not say he had no children—"Fight? To be sure I do."

"Another gun, sir," said Tailtackle, through the open skylight. Now all was bustle, and we hastened on deck. Our antagonist was a large brig, three hundred tons at the least, a long low vessel, painted black, out and in, and her sides round as an apple, with immensely square yards. She was apparently full of men. The sun was getting low, and she was coming down fast on us, on the verge of the dark blue water of the sea breeze. I could make out ten ports and nine guns of a side. I inwardly prayed they might not be long ones, but I was not a little startled to see through the glass that there were crowds of naked negroes at quarters, and on the forecastle and poop. That she was a contraband Guineaman, I had already made up my mind to believe; and that she had some fifty hands of a crew, I also considered likely; but that her captain should have resorted to such a perilous measure, perilous to themselves as well as to us, as arming the captive slaves, was quite unexpected, and not a little alarming, as it evinced his determination to make the most desperate resistance.

Tailtackle was standing beside me at this time, with his jacket off, his cutlass girded on his thigh, and the belt drawn very tight. All the rest of the crew were armed in a similar fashion; the small—arm—men with muskets in their hands, and the rest at quarters at the guns; while the pikes were cast loose from the spars round which they had been stopped, with tubs of wadding, and boxes of grape, all ready ranged, and every thing clear for action.

"Mr Tailtackle" said I, "you are gunner here, and should be in the magazine. Cast off that cutlass; it is not your province to lead the boarders." The poor fellow blushed, having, in the excitement of the moment, forgotten that he was any thing more than captain of the Firebrand's maintop.

"Mr Timotheus," said Bang, "have you one of these bodkins to spare?"

Timothy laughed. "Certainly, sir; but you don't mean to head the boarders, sir—do you?"

"Who knows, now since I have learned to walk on this dancing cork of a craft?" rejoined Aaron, with a grim smile, while he pulled off his coat, braced on his cutlass, and tied a large red cotton shawl round his head. He then took off his neckerchief and fastened it round his waist, as tight as he could draw.

"Strange that all men in peril—on the uneasiness, like," said he, "should always gird themselves as tightly as they can."

The slaver was now within musket—shot, when he put his helm to port, with the view of passing under our stem. To prevent being raked, we had to luff up sharp in the wind, and fire a broadside. I noticed the white splinters glance from his black wales; and once more the same sharp yell rung in our ears, followed by the long melancholy howl, already described.

"We have pinned some of the poor blacks again," said Tailtackle, who still lingered on the deck; small space for remark, for the slaver again fired his broadside at us, with the same cool precision as before.

"Down with the helm, and let her come round," said I; "that will do master, run across his stern—Out sweeps forward, and keep her there get the other carronade over to leeward—that is it—now, blaze away while he is becalmed—fire, small—arm—men, and take good aim."

We were now right across his stern, with his spanker boom within ten yards of us; and although he worked his two stem chasers with great determination, and poured whole showers of musketry from his rigging, and poop, and cabin—windows, yet, from the cleverness with which our sweeps were pulled, and the accuracy with which we were kept in our position, right athwart his stern, our fire, both from the cannon and musketry, the former loaded with round and grape, was telling, I could see, with fearful effect.

Crash—"There, my lads, down goes his main—topmast—pepper him well, while they are blinded and confused among the wreck. Fire away—there goes the peak, shot away cleverly, close by the throat. Don't cease firing, although his flag be down—it was none of his doing. There, my lads, there he has it again; you have shot away the weather fore topsail sheet, and he cannot get from under you."

Two men at this moment lay out on his larboard foreyard—arm, apparently with the intention of splicing the sheet, and getting the clew of the fore—topsail once more down to the yard; if they had succeeded in this, the vessel would again have fetched way, and drawn out from under our fire. Mr Bang and Paul Gelid had all this time been firing with murderous precision, from where they had ensconced themselves under the shelter of the larboard bulwark, close to the taffrail, with their three black servants in the cabin, loading the six muskets, and little Wagtail, who was no great shot, sitting on the deck, handing them up and down.

"Now, Mr Bang," cried I, "for the love of Heaven"—and may Heaven forgive me for the ill—placed exclamation—"mark these two men—down with them?"

Bang turned towards me with all the coolness in the world "What, those chaps on the end of the long stick?"

"Yes—yes," (I here spoke of the larboard foreyard—arm,) "yes, down with them."

He lifted his piece as steadily as if he had really been duck shooting.

"I say, Gelid, my lad, take you the innermost."

"Ah!" quoth Paul. They fired—and down dropped both men, and squattered for a moment in the water, like wounded waterfowl, and then sank for ever, leaving two small puddles of blood on the surface.

"Now, master," shouted I, "put the helm up and lay him alongside—there stand by with the grapplings—one round the backstay the other through the chainplate there—so,—you have it." As we ranged under his counter "Mainchains are your chance, men—boarders, follow me." And in the enthusiasm of the moment I jumped into the slaver's main channel, followed by twenty—eight men. We were in the act of getting over the netting when the enemy rallied, and fired a volley of small arms, which sent four out of the twenty—eight to their account, and wounded three more. We gained the quarterdeck, where the Spanish captain, and about forty of his crew, shewed a determined front, cutlass and pistol in hand we charged them—they stood their ground. Tailtackle (who, the moment he heard the boarders called, had jumped out of the magazine, and followed me) at a blow clove the Spanish captain to the chine; the lieutenant, or second in command, was my bird, and I had disabled him by a sabre—cut on the sword—arm, when he drew his pistol, and shot me through the left shoulder. I felt no pain, but a sharp pinch, and then a cold sensation, as if water had been poured down my neck.

Jigmaree was close by me with a boarding—pike, and our fellows were fighting with all the gallantry inherent in British sailors. For a moment the battle was poised in equal scales. At length our antagonists gave way, when about fifteen of the slaves, naked barbarians, who had been ranged with muskets in their hands on the forecastle, suddenly jumped down into the waist with a yell, and came to the rescue of the Spanish part of the crew.

I thought we were lost. Our people, all but Tailtackle, poor Handlead, and Jigmaree, held back. The Spaniards rallied, and fought with renewed courage, and it was now, not for glory, but for dear life, as all retreat was cut off by the parting of the grapplings and warps, that had lashed the schooner alongside of the slaver, for the Wave had by this time forged a—head, and lay across the brig's bows, in place of being on her quarter, with her foremast jammed against the slaver's bowsprit, whose spritsail—yard crossed our deck between the masts. We could not therefore retreat to our own vessel if we had wished it, as the Spaniards had possession of the waist and forecastle; all at once, however, a discharge of round and grape crashed through the bridleport of the brig, and swept off three of the black auxiliaries before mentioned, and wounded as many more, and the next moment an unexpected ally appeared on the field. When we boarded, the Wave had been left with only Peter Mangrove; the five dockyard negroes; Pearl, one of the Captain's gigs, the handsome black already introduced on the scene; poor little Reefpoint, who, as already stated, was badly hurt; Aaron Bang, Paul Gelid, and Wagtail. But this Pearl without price, at the very moment of time when I thought the game was up, jumped on deck through the bowport, cutlass in hand, followed by the five black carpenters and Peter Mangrove, after whom appeared no less a personage than Aaron Bang himself and the three blackamoor valets, armed with boarding—pikes. Bang flourished his cutlass for an instant.

"Now, Pearl, my darling, shout to them in Coromantee—shout;" and forthwith the black quartermaster sung out, "Coromantee Sheik Cocoloo, kockemony populorum fiz;" which, as I afterwards learned, being interpreted, is, "Behold the Sultan Cocoloo, the great ostrich, with a feather in his tail like a palm branch; fight for him, you sons of female dogs." In an instant the black Spanish auxiliaries sided with Pearl, and Bang, and the negroes, and joined in charging the white Spaniards, who were speedily driven down the main hatchway, leaving one half of their number dead, or badly wounded, on the blood slippery deck. But they still made a desperate defence, by firing up the hatchway. I hailed them to surrender.

"Zounds," cried Jigmaree, "there's the clink of hammers they are knocking off the fetters of the slaves."

"If you let the blacks loose," I sung out in Spanish, "by the Heaven above us, I will blow you up, although I should go with you! Hold your hands, Spaniards! Mind what you do, madmen!"

"On with the hatches, men," shouted Tailtackle.

They had been thrown overboard, or put out of the way, they could nowhere be seen. The firing from below continued.

"Cast loose that carronade there; clap in a canister of grape, so now run it forward, and fire down the hatchway." It was done, and taking effect amongst the pent—up slaves, such a yell arose—oh God! oh God!—I never can forget it. Still the maniacs continued firing up the hatchway.

"Load and fire again." My people were now furious, and fought more like incarnate fiends broke loose from hell than human beings.

"Run the gun up to the hatchway once more." They ran the carronade so furiously forward, that the coaming, or ledge, was split off, and down went the gun, carriage and all, with a crash into the hold. Presently smoke appeared rising up the fore—hatchway.

"They have set fire to the brig; overboard!—regain the schooner, or we shall all be blown into the air like peels of onions!" sung out little Jigmaree.

But where was the Wave? She had broke away, and was now a cable's length ahead, apparently fast leaving us, with Paul Gelid and Wagtail, and poor little Reefpoint, who, badly wounded as he was, had left his hammock, and come on deck in the emergency, making signs of their inability to cut away the halyards; and the tiller being shot away, the schooner had become utterly unmanageable.

"UP,—and let fall the foresail, men—down with the fore tack cheerily now—get way on the brig, and overhaul the Wave promptly, or we are lost," cried I. It was done with all the coolness of desperate men. I took the helm, and presently we were once more alongside of our own vessel. Time we were so, for about one hundred and fifty of the slaves, whose shackles had been knocked off, now scrambled up the fore hatchway, and we had only time to jump overboard, when they made a rush aft; and no doubt, exhausted as we were, they would have massacred us on the spot, frantic and furious as they evidently were from the murderous fire of grape that had been directed down the hatchway.

But the fire was quicker than they. The smouldering smoke that was rising like a pillar of cloud from the fore hatchway, was now streaked with tongues of red flame, which, licking the masts and spars, ran up and caught the sails and rigging. In an instant, the fire spread to every part of the gear aloft, while the other element, the sea, was also striving for the mastery in the destruction of the doomed vessel; for our shot, or the fall of the carronade into the hold, had started some of the bottom planks, and she was fast settling down by the head. We could hear the water rushing in like a mill stream. The fire increased her guns went off as they became heated—she gave a sudden heel—and while five hundred human beings, pent up in her noisome hold, split the heavens with their piercing death—yells, down she went with a heavy lurch, head foremost, right in the wake of the setting sun, whose level rays made the thick dun wreaths that burst from her as she disappeared, glow with the hue of the amethyst; and while the whirling clouds, gilded by his dying radiance, curled up into the blue sky, in rolling masses, growing thinner and thinner, until they vanished away, even like the wreck whereout they arose,—and the circling eddies, created by her sinking, no longer sparkled and flashed in the red light—and the stilled waters where she had gone down, as if oil had been cast on them, were spread out like polished silver, shining like a mirror, while all around was dark blue ripple,—a puff of fat black smoke, denser than any we had yet seen, suddenly emerged with a loud gurgling noise, from out the deep bosom of the calmed sea, and rose like a balloon, rolling slowly upwards, until it reached a little way above our mastheads, where it melted and spread out into a dark pall, that overhung the scene of death, as if the incense of such a horrible and polluted sacrifice could not ascend into the pure heaven, but had been again crushed back upon our devoted heads, as a palpable manifestation of the wrath of Him who hath said—"Thou shalt not kill."

For a few moments all was silent as the grave, and I felt as if the air had become too thick for breathing, while I looked up like another Cain.

Presently, about one hundred and fifty of the slaves, men, women, and children, who had been drawn down by the vortex, rose amidst numberless pieces of smoking wreck, to the surface of the sea; the strongest yelling like fiends in their despair, while the weaker, the women, and the helpless gasping little ones, were choking, and gurgling, and sinking all around. Yea, the small thin expiring cry of the innocent sucking infant tom from its sinking mother's breast, as she held it for a brief moment above the waters, which had already for ever closed over herself, was there. But we could not perceive one single individual of her white crew; like desperate men, they had all gone down with the brig. We picked up about one half of the miserable Africans, and—my pen trembles as I write it—fell necessity compelled us to fire on the remainder, as it was utterly impossible for us to take them on board. Oh that I could erase such a scene for ever from my memory! One incident I cannot help relating. We had saved a woman, a handsome clear skinned girl, of about sixteen years of age. She was very faint when we got her in, and was lying with her head over a port—sill, when a strong athletic young negro swam to the part of the schooner where she was. She held down her hand to him; he was in the act of grasping it, when he was shot through the heart from above. She instantly jumped overboard, and, clasping him in her arms, they sank, and disappeared together. "Oh, woman, whatever may be the colour of your skin, your heart is of one only!" said Aaron.

Soon all was quiet; a wounded black here and there was shrieking in his great agony, and struggling for a moment before he sank into his watery grave for ever; a few pieces of wreck were floating and sparkling on the surface of the deep in the blood red sunbeams, which streamed in a flood of glorious light on the bloody deck, shattered hull, and torn rigging of the Wave, and on the dead bodies and mangled limbs of those who had fallen; while some heavy scattering drops of rain fell sparkling from a passing cloud, as if Nature had wept in pity over the dismal scene; or as if they had been blessed tears, shed by an angel, in his heavenward course, as he hovered for a moment, and looked down in pity on the fantastic tricks played by the worm of a day—by weak man, in his little moment of power and ferocity. I said something—ill and hastily. Aaron was close beside me, sitting on a carronade slide, while the surgeon was dressing a pike wound in his neck. He looked up solemnly in my face, and then pointed to the blessed luminary, that was now sinking in the sea, and blazing up into the resplendent heavens—"Cringle, for shame for shame—your impatience is blasphemous. Remember this morning and thank Him"—here he looked up and crossed himself—"thank Him who, while he has called poor Mr Handlead, and so many brave fellows to their last awful reckoning, has mercifully brought us to the end of this fearful day;—oh, thank Him, Tom, that you have seen the sun set once more!"

CHAPTER XVI



The Second Cruise of the Wave

"I longed to see the Isles that gem, Old Ocean's purple diadem, I sought by turns, and saw them all."

BYRON, THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS, II. 355—57.

The puncture in Mr Bang's neck from the boarding—pike was not very deep, still it was an ugly lacerated wound; and if The had not to use his own phrase, been somewhat bullnecked, there is no saying what the consequences might have been.

"Tom, my boy," said he, after the doctor was done with him, "I am nicely coopered now—nearly as good as new—a little stiffish or so lucky to have such a comfortable coating of muscle, otherwise the carotid would have been in danger. So come here, and take your turn, and I will hold the candle."

It was dead calm, and as I had desired the cabin to be again used as a cockpit, it was at this time full of poor fellows, waiting to have their wounds dressed, whenever the surgeon could go below. The lantern was brought, and sitting down on a wadding tub, I stripped. The ball, which I knew had lodged in the fleshy part of my left shoulder, had first of all struck me right over the collar—bone, from which it had glanced, and then buried itself in the muscle of the arm, just below the skin, where it stood out, as if it had been a sloe both in shape and colour. The collar—bone was much shattered, and my chest was a good deal shaken, and greatly bruised; but I had perceived nothing of all this at the time I was shot; the sole perceptible sensation was the feeling of cold water running down, and the pinch in the shoulder, as already described. I was much surprised (every man who has been seriously hit being entitled to expatiate) with the extreme smallness of the puncture in the skin through which the ball had entered; you could not have forced a pea through it, and there was scarcely any flow of blood.

"A very simple affair this, sir," said the surgeon, as he made a minute incision right over the ball, the instrument cutting into the cold dull lead with a cheep, and then pressing his fingers, one on each side of it, it jumped out nearly into Aaron's mouth.

"A pretty sugar—plum, Tom—if that collar—bone of yours had not been all the harder, you would have been embalmed in a gazette, to use your own favourite expression. But, my good boy, your bruise on the chest is serious; you must go to bed, and take care of yourself."

Alas! there was no bed for me to go to. The cabin was occupied by the wounded, where the surgeon was still at work. Out of our small crew, nine had been killed, and eleven wounded, counting passengers—twenty out of forty—two—a fearful proportion.

The night had now fallen.

"Pearl, send some of the people aft, and get a spare square—sail from the sailmaker, and"

"Will the awning not do, sir?"

"To be sure it will," said I—it did not occur to me. "Get the awning triced up to the stancheons, and tell my steward to get the beds on deck a few flags to shut us in will make the thing complete."

It was done; and while the sharp cries of the wounded, who were immediately under the knife of the doctor, and the low moans of those whose wounds had been dressed, or were waiting their turn, reached our ears distinctly through the small skylight, our beds were arranged on deck, under the shelter of the awning, a curtain of flags veiling our quarters from the gaze of the crew. Paul Gelid and Pepperpot occupied the starboard side of the little vessel; Aaron Bang and myself the larboard. By this time it was close on eight o'clock in the evening. I had merely looked in on our friends, ensconced as they were in their temporary hurricane house; for I had more work than I could accomplish on deck in repairing damages. Most of our standing, and great part of our running rigging, had been shot away, which the tired crew were busied in splicing and knotting the! best way they could. Our mainmast was very badly wounded close to the deck. It was fished as scientifically as our circumstances admitted. The foremast had fortunately escaped—it was untouched; but there were no fewer than thirteen round shot through our hull, five of them between wind and water.

When every thing had been done which ingenuity could devise, or the most determined perseverance execute, I returned to our canvass—shed aft, and found Mr Wagtail sitting on the deck, arranging, with the help of my steward, the supper equipment to the best of his ability. Our meal, as may easily be imagined, was frugal in le extreme—salt beef, biscuit, some roasted yams, and cold grog—some of Aaron's excellent rum. But I mark it down, that I question if any one of the four who partook of it, ever made so hearty a supper before or since. We worked away at the junk until we had polished the bone, clean as an elephant's tusk, and the roasted yams disappeared in bushelfuls; while the old rum sank in the bottle, like mercury in the barometer indicating an approaching gale.

"I say, Tom," quoth Aaron, "how do you feel, my boy?"

"Why, not quite so buoyant as I could wish. To me it has been a day of fearful responsibility."

"And well it may," said he. "As for myself, I go to rest with the tremendous consciousness that even I, who am not a professional butcher, have this blessed day shed more than one fellow—creature's blood—a trembling consideration—and all for what, Tom? You met a big ship in the dark, and desired her to stop. She said she would not—You said, 'You shall.'—She rejoined, 'I'll be d—d if I do.' And thereupon you set about compelling her; and certainly you have interrupted her course to some purpose, at the trivial cost of the lives of only five or six hundred human beings, whose hearts were beating cheerily in their bosoms within these last six hours, but whose bodies are now food for fishes."

I was stung.

"At your hands, my dear sir, I did not expect this, and"

"Hush," said he, "I don't blame you—it is all right; but why will not the Government at home arrange by treaty that this nefarious trade should be entirely put down? Surely all our victories by sea and land might warrant our stipulating for so much, in place of huggermuggering with doubtful ill—defined treaties, specifying that you Johnny Crapeau, and you Jack Spaniard, shall steal men, and deal in human flesh, in such and such a degree of latitude only, while, if you pick up one single slave a league to the northward or southward of the prescribed line of coast, then we shall blow you out of the water wherever we meet you. Why should poor devils, who live in one degree of latitude, be allowed to be kidnapped, whilst we make it felony to steal their immediate neighbours?" Aaron waxed warm as he proceeded. "Why will not Englishmen lend a hand to put down the slave—trade amongst our opponents in sugar growing, before they so recklessly endeavour to crush slavery in our own worn—out colonies, utterly disregardless of our rights and lives? Mind, Tom, I don't defend slavery, I sincerely wish we could do without it, but am I to be the only one to pay the piper in compassing its extinction? If, however, it really be that Upas—tree, under whose baleful shade every kindly feeling in the human bosom, whether of master or servant, withers and dies, I ask, who planted it? If it possess the magical, and incredible, and most pestilential quality, that the English gentleman, who shall be virtuous and beneficent, and just in all his ways, before he leaves home, and after he returns home, shall, during his temporary sojourn within its influence become a very Nero for cruelty, and have his warm heart of flesh smuggled out of his bosom, by some hocus pocus, utterly unintelligible to any unprejudiced rational being, or indurated into the flint of the nether millstone, or frozen into a lump of ice"

"Lord!" ejaculated Wagtail, "only fancy a snowball in a man's stomach, and in Jamaica too!"

"Hold your tongue, Waggy, my love," continued Aaron; "if all this were so, I would again ask, who planted it?—say not that we did it—I am a planter, but I did not plant slavery. I found it growing and flourishing, and fostered by the Government, and made my home amongst the branches like a respectable corbie craw, or a pelican in a wild— duck's nest, with all my pretty little tender black branchers hopping about me, along with numberless other unfortunates, and now find that the tree is being uprooted by the very hands that planted and nourished it, and seduced me to live in it, and all"

I laughed aloud—"Come, come, my dear sir, you are a perfect Lord Castlereagh in the congruity of your figures. How the deuce can any living thing exist among the poisonous branches of the Upas—tree—or a wild—duck build"

"Get along with your criticism, Tom—and don't laugh, hang it, don't laugh—but who told you that a corbie cannot?"

"Why there are no corbies in Java."

"Pah—botheration—there are pelicans then; but you know it is not an Upas—tree, you know it is all a chimera, and, like the air—drawn dagger of Macbeth, 'that there is no such thing.' Now, that is a good burst, Gelid, my lad, a'nt it?" said Bang, as he drew a long breath, and again launched forth.

"Our Government shall quarrel about sixpence here or sixpence there of discriminative duty in a foreign port, while they have clapped a knife to our throats, and a flaming fagot to our houses, by absurd edicts and fanatical intermeddling with our own colonies, where the slave—trade has notoriously, and to their own conviction, entirely ceased; while, I say it again, they will not put out their little finger to prevent, nay, they calmly look on, and permit a traffic utterly repugnant to all the best feelings of our nature, and baneful to an incalculable degree to our own West Indian possessions; provided, forsooth, the slaves be stolen within certain limits, which, as no one can prove, naturally leads to this infernal contraband, the suppression of which—Lord, what a thing to think of!—has nearly deprived the world of the invaluable services of me, Aaron Bang, Esquire, Member of Council of the Island of Jamaica, and Custos Rotulorum Populorum Jig of the Parish of——"

"Lord," said Wagtail, "why, the yam is not half done."

"But the rum is—ah!" drawled Gelid.

"D—n the yam and the rum too," rapped out Bang. "Why, you belly—gods, you have interrupted such a torrent of eloquence!"

I began to guess that our friends were waxing peppery. "Why, gentlemen, I don't know how you feel, but I am regularly done up—it is quite calm, and I hope we shall all sleep, so good—night."

We nestled in, and the sun had risen before I was called next morning. I hope "I rose a sadder and a wiser man. Upon that morrow's morn."

"On deck, there," said I, while dressing. Mr Peter Swop, one of the Firebrand's master—mates, and now, in consequence of poor Handlead's death, acting—master of the Wave, popped in his head through the opening in the flags. "How is the weather, Mr Swop?"

"Calm all night, sir; not a breath stirring, sir."

"Are the sails shifted?" said I, "and the starboard main—shrouds replaced?"

"They are not yet, sir; the sails are on deck, and the rigging is now stretching, and will be all ready to get over the masthead by breakfast time, sir."

"How is her head?"

"Why," rejoined Swop, "it has been boxing all round the compass, sir, for these last twelve hours; at present it is north—east." "Have we drifted much since last night, Mr Swop?"

"No, sir—much where we were, sir," rejoined the master. "There are several pieces of wreck, and three dead bodies floating close to, sir."

By this time I was dressed, and had gone from under the awning on deck. The first thing I did was to glance my eye over the nettings, and there perceived on our quarter, three dead bodies, as Mr Swop had said, floating——one a white Spaniard, and the others the corpses of two unfortunate Africans, who had perished miserably when the brig went down. The white man's remains, swollen as they were, from the heat of the climate, and sudden putrefaction consequent thereon, floated quietly within pistol—shot, motionless and still; but the bodies of the two negroes were nearly hidden by the clustering sea—birds which had perched on them. There were at least two dozen shipped on each carcass, busy with their beaks and claws, while, on the other hand, the water in the immediate neighbourhood seemed quite alive, from the rushing and walloping of numberless fishes, who were tearing the prey piecemeal. The view was any thing but pleasant, and I naturally turned my eyes forward to see what was going on in the bows of the schooner. I was startled from the number of black faces which I saw.

"Why, Mr Tailtackle, how many of these poor creatures have we on board?"

"There are fifty—nine, sir, under hatches in the fore—hold," said Timothy, "and thirty—five on deck; but I hope we shan't have them long, sir. It looks like a breeze to windward. We shall have it before long, sir."

At this moment Mr Bang came on deck.

"Lord, Tom, I thought it was a flea—bite, last night, but, mercy, I am as stiff and sore as a gentleman need be. How do you feel? I see you have one of your fins in a sling—eh?"

"I am a little stiff, certainly; however, that will go off; but come forward here, my dear sir; come here, and look at this shot—hole—saw you ever anything like that?"

This was the smashing of one of our pumps from a round shot, the splinters from which were stuck into the bottom of the launch, which overhung it, forming really a figure very like the letter A.

"Don't take it to myself, Tom—no, not at all."

At this moment the black savages on the forecastle discovered our friend, and shouts of "Sheik Cocoloo" rent the skies. Mr Bang, for a moment, appeared startled, so far as I could judge, he had forgotten that part of his exploit, and did not know what to make of it, until at last the actual meaning seemed to flash on him, when, with a shout of laughter, he bolted in through the opening of the flags to his former quarters below the awning. I descended to the cabin, breakfast having been announced, and sat down to our meal, confronted by Paul Gelid and Pepperpot Wagtail. Presently we heard Aaron sing out, the small skuttle being right overhead, "Pegtop, come here, Pegtop, I say, help me on with my neckcloth—so—that will do; now I shall go on deck. Why, Pearl, my boy, what do you want?" and before Pearl could get a word in, Aaron continued, "I say, Pearl, go to the other end of the ship, and tell your Coromantee friends that it is all a humbug that I am not the Sultan Cocoloo; farther more, that I have not a feather in my tail like a palm branch, of the truth of which I offer to give them ocular proof."

Pearl made his salaam. "Oh, sir, I fear that we must not say too much on that subject; we have not irons for one half of them savage negirs;" the fellow was as black as a coal himself; "and were they to be undeceived, why, reduced as our crew is, they might at any time rise on, and massacre the whole watch."

"The devil!" we could hear friend Aaron say; "oh, then, go forward, and assure them that I am a bigger ostrich than ever, and I shall astonish them presently, take my word for it. Pegtop, come here, you scoundrel," he continued; "I say, Pegtop, get me out my uniform coat,"—our friend was a captain of Jamaica militia—"so—and my sword—that will do—and here, pull off my trowsers it will be more classical to perambulate in my shirt, in case it really be necessary to persuade them that the palm branch was all a figure of speech. Now, my hat—there—walk before me, and fan me with the top of that herring barrel."

This was a lid of one of the wadding—tubs, which, to come up to Jigmaree's notions of neatness, had been fitted with covers, and forth stumped Bang, preceded by Pegtop doing the honours. But the instant he appeared from beneath the flags, the same wild shout arose from the captive slaves forward, and such of them as were not fettered, immediately began to bundle and tumble round our friend, rubbing their flat noses and woolly heads all over him, and taking hold of the hem of his garment, whereby his personal decency was so seriously periled, that, after an unavailing attempt to shake them off, he fairly bolted, and ran for shelter, once more, under the awning, amidst the suppressed mirth of the whole crew, Aaron himself laughing louder than any of them all the while. "I say, Tom, and fellow sufferers," quoth he, after he had run to earth under the awning, and looking down the scuttle into the cabin where we were at breakfast, "how am I to get into the cabin? if I go out on the quarterdeck but one arm's length, in order to reach the companion, these barbarians will be at me again. Ah, I see"