After a brief pause, the commanding officers of both divisions
demanded my papers, which, while I acknowledged myself _his_ prisoner,
I yielded to the _senior_ personage who had humanely stopped the
massacre. I saw that this annoyed the other, whom I had so frequently
repulsed; yet I thought the act fair as well as agreeable to my
feelings, for I considered my crew competent to resist the _first
division successfully_, had it not been succored by the consort's
boats.
But my decision was not submitted to by the defeated leader without a
dispute, which was conducted with infinite harshness, until the senior
ended the quarrel by ordering his junior to tow the prize within reach
of the corvette * * * *. My boat, though somewhat riddled with balls,
was lowered, and I was commanded to go on board the captor, with my
papers and servant under the escort of a midshipman. The captain stood
at the gangway as I approached, and, seeing my bloody knee, ordered me
not to climb the ladder, but to be hoisted on deck and sent below for
the immediate care of my wound. It was hardly more than a severe
laceration of flesh, yet was quite enough to prevent me from bending
my knee, though it did not deny locomotion with a stiff leg.
The dressing over,--during which I had quite a pleasant chat with the
amiable surgeon,--I was summoned to the cabin, where numerous
questions were put, all of which I answered frankly and _truly_.
Thirteen of my crew were slain, and nearly all the rest wounded. My
papers were next inspected, and found to be Spanish. "How was it,
then," exclaimed the commander, "that you fought under the Portuguese
flag?"
Here was the question I always expected, and for which I had in vain
taxed my wit and ingenuity to supply a reasonable excuse! I had
nothing to say for the daring violation of nationality; so I resolved
to tell the truth boldly about my dispute with the Dane, and my desire
to deceive him early in the day, but I cautiously omitted the
adroitness with which I had deprived him of his darkies. I confessed
that I forgot the flag when I found I had a different foe from the
Dane to contend with, and I flattered myself with the hope that, had I
repulsed the first unaided onset, I would have been able to escape
with the usual sea-breeze.
The captain looked at me in silence a while, and, in a sorrowful
voice, asked if I was aware that my defence under the Portuguese
ensign, no matter what tempted its use, could only be construed as an
act of _piracy_!
A change of color, an earnest gaze at the floor, compressed lips and
clenched teeth, were my only replies.
This painful scrutiny took place before the surgeon, whose looks and
expressions strongly denoted his cordial sympathy with my situation.
"Yes," said Captain * * * *, "it is a pity for a sailor who fights as
bravely as you have done, in defence of what he considers his
property, to be condemned for a combination of mistakes and
forgetfulness. However, let us not hasten matters; you are hungry and
want rest, and, though we are navy-men, and on the coast of Africa, we
are not savages." I was then directed to remain where I was till
further orders, while my servant came below with an abundant supply of
provisions. The captain went on deck, but the doctor remained.
Presently, I saw the surgeon and the commander's steward busy over a
basket of biscuits, meat and bottles, to the handle of which a cord,
several yards in length, was carefully knotted. After this was
arranged, the doctor called for a lamp, and unrolling a chart, asked
whether I knew the position of the vessel. I replied affirmatively,
and, at his request, measured the distance, and noted the course to
the nearest land, which was Cape Verga, about thirty-seven miles off.
"Now, Don Teodore, if I were in your place, with the prospect of a
noose and tight-rope dancing before me, I have not the slightest
hesitation in saying that I would make an attempt to know what Cape
Verga is made of before twenty-four hours were over my head! And see,
my good fellow, how Providence, accident, or fortune favors you! First
of all, your own boat _happens_ to be towing astern beneath these very
cabin windows; secondly, a basket of provisions, water and brandy,
stands packed on the transom, almost ready to slip into the boat by
itself; next, your boy is in the neighborhood to help you with the
skiff; and, finally, it is pitch dark, perfectly calm, and there isn't
a sentry to be seen aft the cabin door. Now, good night, my clever
fighter, and let me never have the happiness of seeing your face
again!"
As he said this, he rose, shaking my hand with the hearty grasp of a
sailor, and, as he passed my servant, slipped something into his
pocket, which proved to be a couple of sovereigns. Meanwhile, the
steward appeared with blankets, which he spread on the locker; and,
blowing out the lamp, went on deck with a "good night."
It was very still, and unusually dark. There was dead silence in the
corvette. Presently, I crawled softly to the stern window, and lying
flat on my stomach over the transom, peered out into night. There,
in reality, was my boat towing astern by a slack line! As I gazed,
some one on deck above me drew in the rope with softest motion,
until the skiff lay close under the windows. Patiently, slowly,
cautiously,--fearing the sound of his fall, and dreading almost the
rush of my breath in the profound silence,--I lowered my boy into
the boat. The basket followed. The negro fastened the boat-hook to
the cabin window, and on this, lame as I was, I followed the
basket. Fortunately, not a plash, a crack, or a footfall disturbed
the silence. I looked aloft, and no one was visible on the
quarter-deck. A slight jerk brought the boat-rope softly into the
water, and I drifted away into the darkness.