CHAPTER XV.

We return to Liverpool--I have an interview with Miss

Trevannion--Plutus interferes with Cupid, and I sail

again for the coast of Africa.

We set off and arrived at Liverpool, without accident, late on the

sixth night, when we repaired to our usual lodgings. The next day I

called to tell Mr. Trevannion that I had returned, and was informed by

Humphrey that he was quite strong again, and very anxious to see me,

although he had no idea that I should return so soon. Humphrey went up

to announce my arrival, and Mr. Trevannion admitted me immediately,

although he was not yet out of bed.

"I fear that you have not been successful," said he, as he took my

hand.

"On the contrary, Sir, I have succeeded in every thing," and I then

gave him an account of what had happened.

"Well," replied he, "I am very glad of it, and recollect I must be at

the expense, as, without you had incurred it, the schooner would not,

in all probability, have been hired. And now I want to consult with

you about something else. Here is a letter from Captain Irving, of the

Amy, brought home by the Chester Lass."

These were two vessels employed on the Gold Coast, which belonged to

Mr. Trevannion.

"Read it," said Mr. Trevannion, "and give me your opinion."

I did so: Captain Irving stated that he had pushed the two vessels up

a small river on the coast, which he had not known of before, and had

fallen in with a black ruler, who had never yet treated with the

English; but only with the Spaniards, for slaves. That his English

commodities were quite new to the natives, and that, in consequence,

he had made a most fortunate traffic with them, and had loaded a

vessel with ivory, wax, and gold-dust to the amount of 1,000 pounds,

and that he had sent the Chester Lass, remaining himself, to continue

the barter before it was known to the other ships on the coast, which

it would soon be. He continued, that he had not sufficient of the

articles which were most valued by the natives, and requested that Mr.

Trevannion would immediately despatch another vessel with various

goods enumerated, and that then he should be able to fill his own

vessel as well as the one that he had despatched home; that the river

was in such a latitude, and the mouth difficult to discover; that he

sent a little sketch of the coast, which would facilitate the

discovery--but that no time was to be lost, as the sickly season was

coming on, and it was very unhealthy at that time.

As I folded up the letter, Mr. Trevannion said,

"Now, here is an invoice of the whole cargo sent home by the Chester

Lass. I reckon it worth about 7,000_l._"

I looked over the invoice, and agreed with Mr. Trevannion, that it was

well worth that, if not more.

"This is most important, you will acknowledge, Musgrave," said Mr.

Trevannion; "but before I go any further, I trust that, now the only

difficulty is got over, you will not refuse to be my partner; the only

difference I intend to make is, that I now offer you one-fourth

instead of one-eighth. Silence gives consent," continued Mr.

Trevannion, as I did not immediately reply.

"I was so astonished at your munificent offer, Sir, that I could not

well speak."

"Then it's agreed; so say no more about it," said Mr. Trevannion,

taking me by the hand, and pressing it warmly--"and now to business.

My idea is, to sent out the Sparrow-Hawk, being so fast a sailer. Of

course, as a privateer, she has done her work; and as the government

wish the complement of the Arrow to be increased, I think we cannot do

better than to fill her up with some of the Sparrow-Hawk's men,

leaving about twenty-five on board of her, and sending her out as soon

as possible to the coast, with the articles which Captain Irving

requests."

"I agree with you, Sir, that it will be the best plan."

"But whom to send is the difficulty," said Mr. Trevannion. "Captain

Paul, of the Chester Lass, is very ill, and not likely to be out of

bed for some time; and even if he were well, I have no opinion of him

in an affair of this moment. If, as Captain Irving says, he can fill

the Amy, her cargo will be worth three times that of the Chester Lass;

but, of course, the destination of the Sparrow-Hawk must be a secret,

and I do not know whom to intrust her to. We require some one in whom

we can put confidence."

"I agree with you, Sir," replied I; "and, if you have no objection, I

think that the best plan will be for me to go myself; I shall be back

again in ten weeks at the furthest."

"Well, as you will now have a strong interest in it, I really think so

too. In fact, I don't know whom else we can trust."

"I agree with you, Sir, and I will go myself, and I think the sooner

the better; but I do not know whether we can obtain all the goods

requisite immediately."

"We can have them in five or six days," replied Mr. Trevannion; "I

sent Humphrey out to make inquiry."

"At all events, I must look to them myself; and there are many other

things to manage, so I had better wish you a good morning now, Mr.

Trevannion, and in the evening I will call again, and let you know

what I have done."

"Do so," said he, and I then took my leave.

I certainly was very much astonished as well as much pleased at Mr.

Trevannion's liberality relative to the partnership, and I could now

look forward to competency in a few years at the furthest. Certainly,

if Mr. Trevannion had been hasty in his conduct towards me, he had

made most noble reparation. I first returned to the lodgings and told

Captain Levee and Philip what had passed; they immediately proposed

that we should all go together on board the Sparrow-Hawk, that I might

make my arrangements, and that they might persuade some of the men to

join the Arrow. I first picked out the men I wished to sail with me;

and then they talked over the rest, who that evening went on shore for

their wages, and the next morning joined the Arrow, as Captain Levee

was anxious to get round to the Nore. The day after the men joined,

the Arrow sailed, which I was not sorry for, as it left me more at

leisure to expedite my own affairs. Philip promised to be my

correspondent, and I bade them both farewell with regret. I called in

the evening, as I had promised, upon Mr. Trevannion, and he then gave

me the deed of partnership, signed and dated the day when he first

made the offer, and we had quarrelled; but I did not see Miss

Trevannion; much to my regret, her father said that she was ailing.

The business I had to transact, and fitting out the Sparrow-Hawk, so

completely occupied me, that it was now three days that I had been at

Liverpool without having seen her, and I was much annoyed at it, as I

had called every day. My feelings towards her were now stronger than

before. She was never out of my thoughts, and I hardly know how it was

that I transacted business as I did. This evening I was determined, if

possible, that I would see her, and find out why she avoided me, as it

appeared to me that she did. When I called, therefore, I did not ask

to see her father, but told Humphrey to find out where Miss Trevannion

was, and say that I requested to speak with her. Humphrey returned,

and said that she was in the sitting-room, to which I instantly

repaired.

"I am fearful, that I have given you some unintentional cause of

displeasure, Miss Trevannion," said I, as I entered, "for you have

appeared to avoid me since my return."

"Indeed, Mr. Musgrave, I have not," replied she; "I was most anxious

to see you, and have thought it very unpolite, I may add, unkind, on

your part not to have come to me."

"I have been in the house every day, and sometimes twice a-day, with

your father, Miss Trevannion, and have never met you. Once I inquired

for you, and your father told me you were unwell, whereas Humphrey had

but five minutes before told me that you were well and in good

spirits."

"Humphrey told the truth, and so did my father. I was in good health

and spirits, and in five minutes afterwards I was ill and unhappy."

"I trust I was no party to it, Miss Trevannion."

"You were a party to it, but not the great offender, who was my

father. He had told me that upon your return he had installed you as

his partner, and had done you the justice you had deserved; and then

he told me that you were going out to the coast of Africa in the

Sparrow-Hawk."

"It is very true, Miss Trevannion; but where is the offence?"

"The offence is this: my father no sooner does you justice than he

wants more ivory and gold-dust, having more than enough already; but I

told him it was as bad as privateering, for in either case he sends

people out to sacrifice their lives, that he may gain more money. I

have no patience with this foolish pursuit of wealth."

"After all your father's kindness to me, Miss Trevannion, I could do

no less than accept the offer."

"You would have been more wise and more just to yourself to have

refused it, Mr. Musgrave. I read the letters to my father when they

arrived, and you know what Captain Irving says about the unhealthiness

of the climate. You have been my father's best friend, and he should

not have treated you thus."

"I never did value life, Miss Trevannion; but really the kind interest

you have expressed on this occasion makes me feel as if my poor life

was of some value. To one who has been such a football of fortune as I

have been, and who has hardly, known a kind feeling towards him ever

expressed, it is a gratification that I really appreciate, and coming

from one whom I respect and esteem more than any other person in the

world, it quite overpowers me. Indeed, Miss Trevannion, I am truly

grateful."

I was correct when I said that it overpowered me, for it did

completely, and I was so oppressed by my feelings, that I reeled to a

chair, and covered up my face with my hands. What would I have given

to have dared to state what I felt!

"You are ill, Mr. Musgrave," said Miss Trevannion, coming to me. "Can

I offer you any thing?"

I made no reply; I could not speak.

"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 lasts

it must kill me. I give you my honour that I have for months tried

every thing 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 who

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. One 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,

every thing 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 better 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 palmtrees 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 mast 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 recognized 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 in

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!

is 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 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 sadly 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 considerate

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, with 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 off 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 any thing 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 fatigue, 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 crashing of the canes, and then a

savage roar, and then yells, and growls, and struggles, and fierce

contention--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 of 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 recognize 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 any thing

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 bed-side. 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 was 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, &c. being paid out of it previous to their sharing and

making a calculation, he showed them that every voyage would be worth

about 100_l._ 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 every thing 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 maybe 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, every body 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."

I shook my head, for I was convinced otherwise.

The Privateer's-Man, One hundred Years Ago · 第 15 / 18 章