"Mr Musgrave," said Miss Trevannion, taking my hand, "you frighten me.
What is the matter? Shall I call Humphrey?"
I felt her hand tremble in mine, and, uncertain what to think, I came to
the resolution to make the avowal.
"Miss Trevannion," said I, after a pause, and rising from my chair, "I
feel that this internal conflict is too great for me, and if it last it
must kill me. I give you my honour that I have for months tried
everything in my power to curb my desires and to persuade myself of my
folly and rash ambition, but I cannot do so any longer. It were better
that I knew my fate at once, even if my sentence should be my death.
You will ridicule my folly, be surprised at my presumption, and, in all
probability, spurn me for the avowal, but make it I must. Miss
Trevannion, I have dared--to love you; I have but one excuse to offer,
which is, that I have been more than a year in your company, and it is
impossible for any one not to love one so pure, so beautiful, and so
good. I would have postponed this avowal till I was able to resume my
position in society, by the means which industry might have afforded me;
but my departure upon this business, and the kind of presentiment which
I have, that I may not see you again, has forced it from me. In a few
days I leave you--be gentle with me for my involuntary offence--pity me
while you condemn, and I will return no more."
Miss Trevannion did not reply; she breathed quick, and stood motionless.
I gathered courage; I looked in her face, there was no displeasure--I
approached her, she was half fainting, and put her hand upon my shoulder
to steady herself. I put my arm round her waist, and led her to the
sofa, and knelt at her feet, watching every change in her beautiful
countenance. I took her hand and pressed it to my lips; by degrees I
became more bold, and got by her side, and pressed her to my heart. She
burst into tears, and wept with her head on my bosom.
"Do not be angry with me," said I, after a time.
"Do I appear as if I was angry with you?" replied she, raising her head.
"Oh, no; but I cannot believe my happiness to be real. It must be a
dream."
"What is life but a dream?" replied she mournfully. "Oh, the coast of
Africa! How I dread it!"
And so I confess did I from that moment; I had a presentiment, as I had
told her, that something would go wrong, and I could not get over the
feeling.
I shall no longer dwell upon what took place on that delightful evening,
Madam; suffice to say, that Miss Trevannion and I were mutually pledged,
and, after an exchange of thought and feeling, we parted, and when we
did part I pressed those dear lips to mine. I went home reeling with
excitement, and hastened to bed, that I might have unrestrained freedom
of thought. I enacted the scene of the evening over and over again;
recalled each motion, each look, every word which had passed, and,
defying fever and presentiment of evil, imagined also our happy meeting
to part no more. It was long before I could compose myself to sleep,
and when I did, I need not say who it was that occupied my dreams. I
called as soon as I could venture so to do on the following day, and had
a long interview with my dear Amy. Before I went up to her father, I
tried to soothe her anxiety upon my approaching voyage, and to persuade
her that there was little or no danger to be apprehended in so short a
stay. Willingly would I have given it up, but Mr Trevannion had so set
his mind upon it, and I had, by my consent, rendered it so impossible
for him to find a substitute in time, that I could not do so, and I
persuaded Miss Trevannion that I was right in acting to my promise line
question that came forward was, whether we should make known our
engagement to her father at once, and this was decided in the negative.
Much as he liked me, he was not yet prepared to receive me so suddenly
as a son-in-law, and Amy was of opinion that the communication had
better be postponed. To this, of course, I gave a willing assent. I
was satisfied with the knowledge of her affection, which I felt would
never change. As I was talking with her father, after my interview with
Amy, he said:
"Really, Elrington, or Musgrave, I hardly know which to call you."
"Musgrave is my real name, Sir," replied I.
"Musgrave--Musgrave--where did I know a Musgrave?"
"We are from the north," replied I.
"Well," said he, "I was going to say, that I really wish I could find
some one else to take your place in this voyage, for I do not much like
your going."
"Do, my dear father," said Miss Trevannion, who was standing by him.
"Hey! Miss Amy, what have you to do with it, I should like to know, and
how can it concern you whether Mr Musgrave goes or not?"
"I said so, Sir, because I know how you will feel his loss for so long a
period. You know how you did feel his loss before, and I do not wish to
see you working so hard, as you will have to do it without his
assistance."
"Well, that's kindly thought, Amy, at all events; but still I fear that
Mr Musgrave must go, and I must work by myself till he comes back; so
it's no use saying any more about it."
Amy sighed and made no reply. On the third day after this interview,
everything was ready, and on the following morning I was to sail. Mr
Trevannion had so many directions to give, and kept me so wholly with
him, that I could hardly find time to speak to his daughter. However,
it was agreed that as I was to sail at daylight, that she would see me
after her father had gone to bed. Our meeting took place--need I say
that it was a tender one. We renewed our vows over and over again, and
it was not till past midnight that I tore myself away. Old Humphrey
looked very knowingly at me when he let me out of the street-door. I
slipped a guinea in his hand and wished him good-bye. I hastened on
board of the Sparrow-Hawk, and, desiring to be called before daylight,
went down into the cabin. There I remained sitting at the table and
thinking of Amy so long, that when the mate came down to wake me he
found that I was still sitting there, having never been to bed during
the whole of the night.
I started from my reverie and hastened on deck to get the schooner under
weigh. It was soon done, although we were, comparatively speaking,
short-handed. There was a fine breeze, and lightened as she now was,
the little vessel flew through the water. Liverpool was soon out of
sight, and we were dashing down the Irish Channel.
"She sails well now," said I to the second mate, a very clever man, and
much hotter educated than most seamen, for he could navigate, as well as
being a first-rate seaman.
"Yes, Sir," replied Olivarez, "she walks fast. She is not too deep
now," replied he; "what a slaver she would make."
This man was not an Englishman, but a Brazilian Portuguese by birth,
although he had long been out of his country. Having set her course, I
went down below, that I might indulge in my castle-building more at my
ease. The wind increased to a gale, but as it was from the northward,
and bore us to our destination, it was welcomed. We soon crossed the
Bay of Biscay, and were in more genial latitudes; and, after a rapid run
of about four weeks, I found myself nearly in the latitude given to us
of the river where the Amy was at anchor. I then hauled in for the
shore, which was very low, and required being approached with caution.
We saw some towering palm-trees at sunset, and then we hove-to; the next
day we again stood in, and having ascertained our exact latitude at
noon, we found ourselves about four miles to the northward of the
river's mouth. We shaped a course, and in two hours I made out the
marks given for our guidance in the rough sketch of Captain Irving, and
thus satisfied that I was right, ran directly for the mouth of the
river. Captain Irving was correct in saying it was difficult, for it
was not until we were within a mile that we could find any opening; but
at last we did, and at the same time perceived the masts of two vessels
at some distance up the river. We stood in, and found that there was no
bar at the river mouth, which was a very unusual circumstance on this
coast. The soundings were gradual, and in an hour afterwards we
anchored between the Amy and a fine schooner under British colours.
Captain Irving recognised the Sparrow-Hawk, and immediately came on
board. After the usual salutations, he told me that his vessel was
half-laden, but that he waited for the articles he had sent for to
enable him to complete his cargo. I told him that I had them on board,
and he should have them as soon as he sent his boats. He stated that no
vessels, except those engaged in the slave-trade, had ever come into
this river, and that they only brought the cloth and other articles
usual in the trade; but that his assorted cargo had astonished the
people, and they were wild to possess things which they had never before
seen. They had offered slaves in quantities, but finding that he would
not take them in exchange, they had now brought down ivory and
gold-dust. He told me how glad he was that I had come, as the river was
very sickly, and was becoming more and more so every day; that out of
twelve men he had already four down with fever.
I inquired of him what that vessel was on the other side of us. He
replied it was a Liverpool slave-trader, and that the captain appeared
to be a very good sort of man; that he never indulged in liquor, nor was
given to profane language.
A few minutes afterwards the captain of the slaver came on board to pay
his respects, and I asked him down in the cabin, and gave him beer and
cheese, the two greatest luxuries in those climes. He appeared, as
Captain Irving stated, a very quiet, well-behaved, serious person, which
I was rather surprised at. When we repaired on deck, I observed, as the
vessel was close to us, that there were two very large dogs on board,
who, at the sight of the captain, bayed furiously. He told me that they
were Cuba bloodhounds and that he never went on shore without them, as
they were the most faithful and courageous animals, and he considered
that he was safer with them than with half a dozen armed men. Shortly
afterwards Captain Irving and he both took leave. As there were still
some hours of daylight, Captain Irving sent his boats for the goods, and
after that, as the evening fell, I went down below, as Captain Irving
requested I would do, and by no means remain on deck after sun-down, as
it was extremely unhealthy.
On the following day Captain Irving went on shore with his goods and
trafficked most favourably. Indeed, as we afterwards found out, he had
procured in exchange more ivory than his vessel would hold, besides much
gold-dust. The day after, I went on shore with Captain Irving to call
upon the king, as he called himself. He was seated in front of a hut
made of palmetto leaves, with a lace coat on, but no other garment
whatever, so that he made a curious appearance. After a little
conversation, I went away, and, hearing that the slaver was taking her
cargo on board, about a hundred yards further up, I walked in that
direction. The slaves were brought down in about twenty at a time, all
of them fastened by the neck to a long bamboo pole, which confined them
all together. One string of them had been sent down and put into the
boat, and another was standing ready for embarkation; when, as I cast my
eyes over them and commiserated their misery, I observed a female whom I
thought I had seen before. I looked again, and behold! It was Whyna,
the princess who had been so kind to me in my captivity. I went up to
her and touched her on the shoulder. She turned round, as well as the
lashing to the pole would permit her, and on seeing me gave a faint
scream. Without ceremony I took out my knife and released her, and led
her away. She fell down at my feet and kissed them. The black man who
had charge of the delivery of the slaves was very angry, and ran up to
me, brandishing his long stick; but the captain of the schooner, who was
on shore, and who had witnessed what I had done, saluted him with a kick
in the stomach, which made him quiet enough. In few words I told the
captain of the slaver that I was once in captivity, and this woman had
befriended me, requesting him to name his price and I would willingly
pay it.
"It's not worth mentioning, Sir," replied he; "women are as cheap as
dirt; take her and welcome."
"Not so," replied I; "I must pay for her ransom."
"Well then, Sir," said he, "I am in great want of a telescope; you have
one on board, will you let me have it?"
"Most certainly," replied I, "and many thanks into the bargain."
I lifted up the poor creature, who was badly emaciated and weak, and led
her to the boat of the Amy and put her in. Captain Irving came down,
and we returned on board. It was with great difficulty that, after I
had given the poor creature some refreshment, which she was really in
need of, I could recollect sufficient of her language to make myself
understood by her; but by degrees words came to my memory, and as she
spoke I recovered more. As well as I could make her out, the warriors
had risen against the king on account of his barbarity, and had cut him
to pieces; and that all his wives and servants had been sold as slaves.
I promised her that she should not be a slave, but should come to my
country and be taken care of.
She kissed my hands, and as she smiled her thanks, she reminded me of
the Whyna of former times. I did not, however, think it advisable that
she should come on board of the schooner, and I requested Captain Irving
to take charge of her, and let her want for nothing, telling him that I
intended that she should go home in his vessel. He willingly consented,
and I hailed the schooner for a boat and went on deck. Whyna followed,
but I told her I was obliged to go on board of the schooner, and that
she had better go and lie down. As she probably thought that the Amy
was my vessel, and that I was going away on a visit, she complied with
my request, and went down with Captain Irving, who led her into a
state-room which was not occupied.
As soon as I arrived on board the schooner, I sent the telescope which
the captain of the slaver had begged for. Whyna had said to me, "I
shall be your slave now," evidently expecting that she was to remain
with me, but that I could not consent to. Miss Trevannion had heard
from me my adventures when in captivity, and I would not on that account
allow Whyna to be in the same vessel with me. The next day Captain
Irving came on board to tell me that he had two more men down with the
fever, and that he wished I could give them some assistance in getting
his cargo on board, which I did, and before night the Amy was loaded up
to the hatchways, and there still remained a considerable number of
elephants' teeth on shore in the hut where he received them. I
therefore determined, as his crew were evidently sickening fast, that he
should sail immediately, and that I would take the remainder of the
ivory on board of the schooner and follow him, giving him a rendezvous
to wait at until I joined him, that we might proceed home in company.
That night three of my men were ill.
I was on board of the Amy, and had been talking with Whyna, who wanted
to know why I did not sleep on board of the vessel. I told her that I
could not, but that we were to go to England directly, and that I was
living on board of the schooner. Captain Irving weighed at daybreak,
and in an hour was out of the river, and as I was as anxious to be clear
of such an unhealthy spot, I manned my boats and went on shore for the
ivory that was left. I found that it would take the whole of the day to
embark it, as we had to go two miles further up the river than the depth
of water would permit the vessel to do; for the ivory was in a hut close
to the king's house. I had sent off four boat-loads, and it being then
noon, I went off with the fifth myself, that I might get my dinner,
leaving the second mate to attend on shore, and taking with me the first
mate who messed in the cabin. As we were in the middle of the stream,
the boat struck against a stump of a tree, as we supposed, and knocked
so large a hole in the bow that she began to fill. I immediately
ordered the men to pull for the nearest point, which was on the opposite
side of the river, that we might ground the boat to prevent her sinking.
The first mate, who was a very active man, finding that the elephants'
teeth prevented his reaching the bow of the boat, and stuffing into it
some oakum which he had found in the stern sheets, sounded with the
boat-hook, and finding that there was not more than three feet of water
where we were pulling, jumped over the bows to push the oakum into the
hole; but the poor fellow had not been a few seconds in the water, when
he gave a shriek, and we perceived that a large shark had snapped him in
two. This was a sad mishap, and the men, terrified, pulled as hard as
they could, while two of them baled out the boat, to gain the shore, for
we knew what fate awaited us if we sunk in the river. With great
exertion we succeeded, running her up among the canes, which grew on
that side of the river so thick that it was difficult to force your way
through them.
We landed up to our knees in mud, and, throwing out the ivory, we found
that a whole plank was rent out, and that it was impossible to repair
our boat; and we were hidden by the canes from those who could have
assisted us, had they known that we required their assistance, and we
had no possible means of communication. At last I thought that if I
could force my way through the canes to the point down the river, I
could hail and make signals for assistance; and desiring the men to
remain by the boat, I set of upon my expedition. At first I got on
pretty well, as there were little paths through the canes, made, as I
imagined, by the natives; and, although I was often up to my knees in
thick black mud, I continued to get on pretty fast; but at last the
canes grew so thick that I could hardly force my way through them, and
it was a work of excessive labour. Still I persevered, expecting each
second that I should arrive at the banks of the river, and be rewarded
for my fatigue; but the more I laboured the worse it appeared to be, and
at last I became worn out with fatigue, and quite bewildered. I then
tried to find my way back, and was equally unsuccessful, and I sat down
with anything but pleasant thoughts in my mind. I calculated that I had
been two hours in making this attempt, and was now, quite puzzled how to
proceed. I bitterly lamented my rashness, now that it was too late.
Having reposed a little, I resumed my toil, and was again, after an
hour's exertion, compelled, from fatigues to sit down in the deep black
mud. Another respite from toil, and another hour or more of exertion,
and I gave myself up for lost. The day was evidently fast closing in--
the light overhead was not near so bright as it had been; and I knew
that a night passed in the miasma of the cane was death. At last it
became darker and darker. There could not be an hour of daylight
remaining. I determined upon one more struggle, and, reeking as I was
with perspiration and faint with fatigue, I rose again, and was forcing
my way through the thickest of the canes, when I heard a deep growl, and
perceived a large panther not twenty yards from me. It was on the move
as well as I was, attempting to force his way through the canes, so as
to come to me. I retreated from him as fast as I could, but he gained
slowly on me, and my strength was fast exhausting. I thought I heard
sounds at a distance, and they became more and more distinct, but what
they were my fear and my struggles probably prevented me from making
out. My eyes were fixed upon the fierce animal which was in pursuit of
me, and I now thanked God that the canes were so thick and impassable;
still the animal evidently gained ground--until it was not more than
five yards from me, dashing and springing at the canes, and tearing them
aside with his teeth.
The sounds were now nearer, and I made them out to be the howling of
other animals. A moment's pause, and I thought it was the baying of
dogs; and I then thought that I must have arrived close to where the
schooner was, and that I heard the baying of the bloodhounds. At last I
could do no more, and I dropped, exhausted and almost senseless, in the
mud. I recollect hearing the crushing of the canes, and then a savage
roar, and then yells, and growls, and struggles, and fierce
contentions--but I had fainted.
I must now inform the reader that about an hour after I had left the
boat the captain of the slaver was pulling up the river, and was hailed
by our men in our long-boat. Perceiving them on shore on that side of
the river, and that they were in distress, he pulled towards them, and
they told him what had happened, and that an hour previous I had left
the boat to force my way through the cane-brakes, and they had heard
nothing of me since.
"Madness!" cried he. "He is a lost man. Stay till I come back from the
schooner."
He went back to the schooner, and taking two of his crew who were
negroes, and his two bloodhounds, into the boat, he returned
immediately, and as soon as he landed he put the bloodhounds on my
track, and sent the negroes on with them. They had followed me in all
my windings, for it appeared that I had travelled in every direction,
and had come up with me just as I had sunk with exhaustion, and the
panther was so close upon me. The bloodhounds had attacked the panther,
and this was the noise which sounded in my ears, as I lay stupified and
at the mercy of the wild beast. The panther was not easily, although
eventually, overcome, and the black men coming up had found me and borne
me in a state of insensibility on board the Sparrow-Hawk. The fever had
come on me, and it was not till three weeks afterwards that I recovered
my senses, when I learnt what I have now told the reader, and much more,
with which I am about to make him acquainted.
When I recovered my senses, I found myself in the cabin of the
Sparrow-Hawk. For some hours I was confused and wandering, but I
rallied from time to time, till I could at last recognise the beams and
carlines over my head. I was too weak to move, and I continued to lie
on my back till I again fell asleep; how long I do not know, but it must
have been for many hours, and then when I awoke I found myself much
stronger.
I could now turn on my bed, and doing so I perceived a young man of the
name of Ingram by my side in a doze, with his eyes shut. I called him
in a faint voice, and he started up.
"I have been very ill," said I, "have I not?"
"Yes, Sir, indeed you have."
"I have been trying to recollect all about it, but I cannot as yet."
"It's not worth remembering, Sir," replied he. "Do you wish anything to
drink?"
"No," replied I.
"Then you had better go to sleep again."
"I cannot do that. I feel as if I should like to get up. Where is Mr
Thompson? I must see him."
"Mr Thompson, Sir," replied he; "don't you recollect?"
"What?"
"Why, Sir, he was bitten in two by a shark."
"Shark!" this was the key-note required, and my memory returned. "Yes,
yes, I recollect now all, all. I recollect the panther and the
cane-brakes. How was I preserved?"
"The bloodhounds killed the panther, and you were brought on board
insensible, and have been in a raging fever ever since."
"It must be so," replied I, collecting my senses after a few moments of
thought. "It must be so. How long have I been ill?"
"This is the twenty-first day."
"The twenty-first day!" cried I. "Is it possible? Are none of the men
ill?"
"No, Sir, they are all well."
"But I hear the water against the bends. Are we not still at anchor?"
"No, Sir, the second mate got the schooner under weigh as he found you
were so ill."
"And I have been ill twenty-one days! Why we must be near home?"
"We expect to make the land in a few days, Sir," replied Ingram.
"Thank Heaven for all its mercies," said I. "I never expected to see
old England again. But what a bad smell there is. What can it be?"
"I suppose it is the bilge-water, Sir," replied Ingram. "People who are
ill and weak always are annoyed by it; but I think, Sir, if you would
take a little gruel, and then go to sleep again, it would be better."
"Well, I fear I am not very strong, and talking so much has done me no
good. I think I could take a little gruel."
"Then, Sir, I'll go and get some made, and be back very soon."
"Do, Ingram, and tell Mr Olivarez, the second mate, that I would speak
to him."
"Yes, I will," replied the man, and he left the state-room.
I waited some time listening for the arrival of the second mate, and
then I thought that I heard odd noises in the hold before the bulk-head
of the state-room in which I was lying, but I was still very weak, and
my head swam. After a time Ingram came down with the gruel, into which
he put some sugar and a spoonful of rum, to flavour it, as he said. He
offered it to me, and I drank it all, for I had an appetite; but whether
it was that I was very weak, or the rum he put in was more than he said,
it is certain that I had hardly given him back the basin than I felt so
drowsy that I turned away from him, and was soon again in forgetfulness.
This Ingram was a young man who had been apprenticed to an apothecary,
and had taken to the sea. He was well educated, and a very merry
fellow, and I had chosen him as one who could attend upon me in the
cabin, and at the same time be otherwise useful if required, as he was a
very good seaman, and very active. When I awoke again I felt convinced
that I must have slept through the night, as it was broad daylight, as
before, but Ingram was not by my bedside. There was no bell in the
state-room, and I was obliged to await his coming. I felt much stronger
than the day before, and now proposed getting out of bed as soon as
Ingram should come down into the cabin. I now remembered that the
second mate had not come down to me, and heard noises and murmurings in
the hold as I had the day previous, which surprised me, and I became
more anxious for the return of Ingram. At last he came, and I told him
that I had been awake more than an hour.
"How do you feel yourself, Sir?" said he.
"Quite strong. I should like to get up and dress. Perhaps I may be
able to get on deck for a quarter of an hour."
"I think," replied he, "that you had better wait, and hear what I have
to tell you, Sir. I would not tell you yesterday, because I thought it
would be too much for you; but as I see you are really better to-day, I
must say that I have strange things to tell you."
"Indeed!" cried I, with surprise. "Strange things. By the bye, why did
not Olivarez come to me yesterday?"
"I will explain all to you, Sir, if you will lie down and listen to what
I have to say, and take the news quietly."
"Very well, Ingram, I will do so. Now pray go on."
"You were brought on board in a state of fever and insensibility by the
captain of the slaver. He said, as he lifted you over the side, that
you were a dead man. We all thought the same, and you were taken down
into the cabin with that persuasion on the part of the whole crew. Your
delirium and fever increased, and every hour it was expected that you
would give up the ghost. Now, Sir, two days afterwards the slaver
sailed with his cargo, and we were left alone in the river. Olivarez,
who of course commanded, talked to the men. He said that you were as
good as dead already, and that he thought that this was a fair
opportunity for their making money. He proposed that the ivory still on
shore should be changed for slaves, which he said the negroes would
gladly do, and that we should run with our cargo to the Brazils. He
said that it would be useless our remaining in the river, as we should
all lose our lives in the same way that you had done, and that he
thought, as commanding the schooner, he knew what would best please the
owner, who had long employed vessels in the slave-trade, and would not
be sorry to find that we had run a cargo, and would reward them all
liberally. That this would be an excuse to leave the river immediately,
whereas otherwise they would have to wait till you recovered or died,
and by that time they might half of them be dead themselves. Do you
understand me, Sir?"
"Yes, perfectly. Go on, Ingram."
"Well, Sir, the men did not perceive what he was about, and replied that
so long as they left the river they did not care how soon, and that it
was better that we should take a cargo of slaves at all events, for
Olivarez was in command now, and they should do as he ordered them. I
made no reply, indeed Olivarez never put the question to me. Well, Sir,
the ivory was soon exchanged for slaves, who are now on board, and it is
the slaves whom you have smelt and complained of. We received on board
140, and provisions sufficient with what we had, and, having taken in
all the water we could, below and on deck, we made sail out of the
river, and have since steered for the Brazils."
"But Olivarez has taken a most unwarrantable responsibility," said I;
"and one that he shall answer for."
"Stop, Sir," replied Ingram, "you have only heard the first part of the
story. When we had been three days at sea, Olivarez, who had been
talking to the men, one by one and apart, called them together, and
said, it was an opportunity not to be lost, that they had possession of
the vessel, and the owner would never have a clue to where she had gone,
and that now was the time to take possession of her for themselves, and
employ her in the slave-trade on their own account. That, sailing so
fast, nothing could overhaul her or board her, and, therefore, they were
free from danger. He then proposed that he should command and navigate,
and receive one-half of the profits, and that the other half should be
divided among the crew--the expense of the provisions, etcetera, being
paid out of it previous to their sharing and making a calculation; he
showed them that every voyage would be worth about 100 pounds a man
after all expenses were paid. The crew consented at once to the terms--
all but me; and when he asked me, my answer was, that I would consent to
nothing while you were yet alive. I said that, because I was afraid
that they would murder me, or throw me overboard."
"Go on, Ingram; go on, and let me hear it all at once."
"`Then you will soon be freed from your difficulty,' said Olivarez.
"`I do not know that, Sir,' I replied, `for I think Mr Musgrave may get
over it.'
"`Indeed,' he returned, `well, then, so much the worse for him.'
"As he, Olivarez, said this, the whole of the crew, to do them justice,
cried out, that there should be no murder, for if there was, they not
only would have nothing to do with the affair, but would make it known
at the first port to which they came. That you had always been a kind,
good officer, and were too brave a man to die in that way."
"`Well, my men,' said Olivarez, `I never had an idea of the kind, and I
promise you, if he lives through it, there shall be no murder; I will
put him on shore at the first port we arrive at, but in such a way as to
secure our safety--that we must look to.'
"The men said that that was all right, and then they all agreed to join
him."
"`And you, Ingram,' said Olivarez, `what do you say?'
"`What I said before,' I replied; `that as long as Mr Musgrave lives I
will come to no agreement whatever.'
"`Well,' said Olivarez, `it is but postponing your decision; I know that
you will join us. So now, my lads, as we're all agreed, we may as well
go to dinner.'"
"The scoundrel shall pay for this," cried I.
"Hush, Sir, hush, I pray; say nothing, but wait patiently and see what
turns up. We are not yet at Rio, and when we are, we may be able to do
something, but everything depends upon keeping quiet, for if the men
become alarmed, they may be persuaded to kill you to save themselves."
"That is very true, Ingram," replied I. "Leave me now for half an hour,
I wish to be alone."
You may imagine, my dear Madam, my agitation at hearing this
intelligence. I, who had thought that I was within a few days' sail of
Liverpool, to be there received by my cherished Amy, to find myself in
the hands of pirates, and close to the Brazils with a cargo of slaves;
which they, or rather Olivarez, had taken in the vessel to Rio that he
might not be discovered; for he might have found a better mart for his
live cargo. And then what would be the anxiety of Amy and her father
when I was not heard of? It would be supposed that the schooner was
upset in a squall, and all hands had perished. Excited and angry as I
was, I felt the truth of what Ingram said, and that it was necessary to
be quiet. Perhaps I might by that means not only preserve my life, but
again find myself in my own country. When Ingram returned, I asked him
if Olivarez knew that I was better, and had recovered my reason. He
replied that he did, but that he had told him I was so weak that I could
hardly recover.
"That is well," said I; "keep him in that belief as long as you can."
He now offered me more gruel, which I took, and I believe that he put an
opiate in it, for shortly after I had taken it I again felt drowsy, and
was soon fast asleep. I awoke sooner than before, for it was night, and
I heard the voice of Olivarez on deck; from what I gathered, land was in
sight, and I heard him order the schooner to be hove-to. In the morning
Ingram came down in the cabin, bringing me some breakfast, which I ate
heartily, for I was recovering fast, and had become quite ravenous.
"Land is in sight," said I.
"Yes, Sir, it is; but we are many miles to the northward of Rio, I
understand, for Olivarez knows the coast well. We shall not be in
to-day, if we are to-morrow."
"I feel quite strong now," replied I, "and I want to get up."
"Do so, Sir," said he; "but if you hear any one coming down the ladder
get into bed again."
With Ingram's assistance I dressed myself, and went into the cabin. I
reeled as I walked, but as soon as I felt the cool breeze from the
stern-ports, I was revived, and in an hour I could walk quite strong.
"Have you heard any more?" inquired I of Ingram.
"Olivarez asked me this morning how you were. I replied that you were
recovering fast."
"`Very well,' said he, `you will share his fate, whatever it may be,
since you have been so careful of him, and have put us in such a
dilemma; but I'll contrive to dispose of you both.'
"I made no reply, Sir, as I knew that would only irritate him."
"You did right, Ingram; a few days will decide our fate. I do not think
that he dares to murder us."
"Nor do I think he wishes it, if he can be clear of us with safety to
himself," replied Ingram.
Two days more passed away, and then Ingram told me that we were a few
miles from the town, and should soon be at anchor.
"Go softly," replied I, "and tell me what is going on."
He went up the ladder, but soon came down again, saying, "We are locked
in, Sir."
I was very much annoyed at this, but it could not be helped--our only
remedy was patience; but I must confess that I was in a state of great
anxiety. We heard the anchor let go, and boats came on board, after
which all was silent for the night. The next morning we heard them open
the hatches, and the slaves were ordered upon deck. The day was passed
in landing them. I was ravenously hungry, and asked Ingram whether they
intended to starve us. He went up the ladder to call for victuals, when
he found on the upper step of the ladder a large vessel full of water
and some cooked provisions, which had probably been put there during the
night. There was enough to last two or three days. The next day passed
and no one came near us, and I had some thoughts of dropping out of the
stern-ports and attempting to swim on shore; but Ingram, who had put his
head out of them as far as he could, told me that we must be at some
distance from the shore, and there were several sharks playing round the
stern, as is always the case with vessels laden with slaves.
The next morning, however, put an end to our suspense; for the companion
was unlocked, and Olivarez, accompanied by four Portuguese, came down
into the cabin, he spoke to them in Portuguese, and they advanced, and,
seizing Ingram and me by the collar, led us up the ladder. I would have
expostulated, but of course could not make myself understood. Olivarez,
however, said:
"Resistance is useless, Mr Musgrave; all you have to do is to go
quietly with these men. As soon as the schooner has sailed, you will be
released."
"Well," replied I, "it may be so, Olivarez; but mark my words, you will
repent this, and I shall see you on a gibbet."
"I trust the wood is not yet out of the ground," replied he; "but I
cannot waste any more words with you."
He then spoke to the Portuguese, who appeared to be government officers
of some kind, and they led us to the gangway; we went into the boat, and
they pulled us to the shore. "Where can they be taking us, Ingram?"
said I.
"Heaven knows, Sir, but we shall find out."
I attempted to speak to the officers, but they cried "_Silentio_," which
word I fully understood to mean "silence," and, finding that I could not
induce them to hear me, I said no more. We landed at a jetty, and were
then led through the streets to a large square. On one side of it was a
heavy building, to which they directed their steps. The door was opened
for us, and we were led in. A paper was produced by our conductors, and
was apparently copied into a book, after which they went away, leaving
us with the people who had received us, and who, by their appearance, I
knew to be gaolers.
"Of what crime am I accused?" inquired I.
No reply was given, but two of the subordinates took us away, unlocked a
massive door, and thrust us into a large court-yard, full of men of
every colour.
"Well," said I, as the door closed upon us, "we are in gaol at all
events; but the question now is, shall we be released as Olivarez had
stated?"
"It is hard to say," replied Ingram. "The question is, what gaol is
this? Could we find any one who could speak English, we might
discover."
Several of those around us had come towards us to examine us, and then
left us, when, as we were conversing, a negro came up, and, hearing what
we said, addressed us in English.
"Massa want one to speak English--I speak English--some long while on
board English vessel."
"Well, then, my good fellow," said I, "can you tell us what this gaol
is, and what prisoners are confined here for?"
"Yes, massa, everybody know that, suppose he live at Rio. This gaol for
people that go dig diamonds."
"How do you mean?"
"Mean! Massa--people sent here to work in diamond-mines all life long
till they die. Keep 'em here till hab plenty to send up all at one
time. Then guard take them up the country, and they go dig and wash for
diamond. Suppose you find very big diamond, you go free. Suppose not,
den you die there."
"Merciful Heavens!" cried I to Ingram, "then we are condemned as slaves
to the mines."
"Yes," replied Ingram with a sigh. "Well, it's better than working in
the quicksilver-mines. At all events, we shall have fresh air."
"Fresh air, without liberty," cried I, clasping my hands.
"Come, Sir, courage, we do not yet know our fate. Perhaps we may, as
Olivarez said, be allowed to go free after the schooner sails."