University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

We proceeded rather slowly until we were out of the
city lest the sound of our horses, whose feet were muffled,
might alarm the inhabitants. Upon leaving Mexico we
entered upon a narrow track, where we put our horses
to their best speed. During all this time I never spoke
a word to Wilson nor he to me, neither did our conductor
utter a syllable. He would sometimes look behind
him as if to urge us on—but we had no need of this
hint.

Before day-light we had left Mexico far behind. The
day was cloudy and therefore I could not distinguish our
course, nor did I take the time to ask. We continued
our journey all that day and the next night without halting,
except for the purpose of drinking and letting our
horses drink. As day-light was breaking upon us we
discovered a small hamlet at no great distance. Our
guide now spoke to us, for the first time, and reining up
his horse, which indeed could hardly drag his legs after
him, he said,

“That we must lie by that day and refresh oursleves
with sleep and food; and that the great road leading to
Vera Cruz lay near—that it was not in our power to
avoid it in either direction on account of the morasses
which lay on each side of it; that our pursuers, if there
were any, would probably be on towards evening, and
by letting them get before us our danger would be less;
and that we would set out again about dark.”

It was likewise settled that Wilson should array himself
in a rich dress, and pass for the superior, while I and
the Indian, (our guide) were to be his domestics. This
being the arrangement we stopped to equip Wilson.—
Leanora had projected this plan, it appeared, and had
provided a rich Spanish dress for the purpose. One circumstance
afflicted us, that was the length of Wilson's
beard. This, however, was to be managed by our guide,

who would take upon himself to account for it, agreeably
to the enquiry it might excite. All these things
being settled, and Wilson dressed up as the master Don,
he and the guide walked forward to the village, while I
led the horses after them.

Although this town was not entirely destitute of wealth
yet we found it difficult to procure accommodations.
There were a few Spaniards settled in it, but we put up
with an Indian. Wilson and myself, after eating some
fruit, (no other food could be had) lay down to sleep, upon
a mat, while our guide went out to put away the horses,
and seek others for the purpose of completing our
journey. The place pointed out for our repose was a
little garden near the house. The enclosure around it
was sufficient to guard us from the view of any one, unless
it was entered. Thus being disposed we left every
other concern to our guide.

When it was completely dark we were called by him
to awake and take some refreshment. He had procured
a little wine, some bread, and a quantity of delicious
fruit, which he brought to us in the garden, and desired
us “to eat hearty, as we should get no more until we arrived
at Vera Cruz. “We must get there this night,” said
he, “and you must take passage the moment you arrive
there, or you will be discovered—for your enemies are
after you.”

“How do you know,” said I, “have you heard of
them.”

He informed us “that while we slept three horsemen
called at the village to get refreshment for themselves
and horses, and withdrew, execrating the place in bitter
terms, because it could afford them nothing. They
came to the very hut we had called at; he met them at
the door, and played off the master of the house upon
them. They rode off very brisk in order to gain a considerable
village on this side of Vera Cruz, where it is
probable they will spend the night. If you therefore
reach Vera Cruz by day-light, and have the good fortune
to find a vessel just going out, you may escape: and
if you meet with no vessel, my lady said I must get my
uncle who lives there, to conceal you until you can get
out safe,”

When we had finished our repast we mounted our horses,
(not the same, for our trusty guide had provided
fresh ones) and setting forward, we were soon in the
great road. We travelled briskly on until we came to
the town where we supposed our enemies had taken up
quarters for the night.

We dared not venture to go through it, and every difficulty,
almost, opposed our going round. Marshes,
brambles, and enclosures, presented themselves in succession.
At length, however, we gained the great road,
and met with no obstacle until we arrived at Vera Cruz,
which we did about two hours before day.

We proceeded directly to the house of our guide's uncle,
who was a Mestezoe, and who received us with
much kindness.

Our first business was, to enquire of this man “whether
any vessel was in the harbour, and whether a passage
could be obtained to Havanna. Our guide, who was the
spokesman, observed “that a Don and his servant wished
to take passage early that morning.” After pausing
sometime the uncle replied,

“There are several ships in the harbour, but whither
they are bound I cannot say.—I will, however, ascertain
that particular as soon as day-light.”

In the mean time we took some refreshment. As soon
as day broke we proceeded to the harbour, and seeing a
boat with three passengers in it, just putting off from the
shore, we hailed it: it returned, and we stepped into
it without asking or being asked any questions. On
our way to the ship our guide, at our instance, asked the
passengers “if they were bound for Havanna?” They
replied, “that they were bound to Spain, but in all
probability they would stop at Havanna.” He asked
them “when they would set sail?” They answed “This
morning.” I found it difficult to conceal my joy upon
hearing this good news, which I perfectly understood.
When we arrived at the vessel, we found it quite a small
craft, laden principally with logwood.

We succeeded in getting a passage, after showing our
passport, which Wilson had. It was for himself only,
but no notice was taken of me, whom he passed for his

servant. No questions being asked, we paid our passage,
and bid adieu to our kind friends, after sending
a message to Leanora

We immediately hoisted anchor, and having a favourable
breeze, soon lost sight of Vera Cruz.

When a man is in bad luck every thing goes wrong;
when it once changes for the better, every thing goes
well. It happened that the ship we engaged was a British
ship. Had it been otherwise, we might have had some
trouble in getting off

An opportunity of conversing together having now
occurred, Wilson gave me the following account of his
anventures from the time of our separation in Mexico:

“After your failure to escape over the wall, in my
first attempt to liberate you, I ran with my best speed
to the house where our late guide joined us two nights
since. At this house I had spent the four days that succeeded
my release, it being pointed out to me by Leanora,
to whom I disclosed my intention without reserve.

“This generous Indian was greatly agitated when I
informed him what had happened, and after a short
pause he said “that I could not remain there, that every
house in the city would be searched, and were I found
in his house my life would be endangered.”

“What was to be done! I proposed to leave the house,
at all hazards, and trust to chance for my safety. “I
would rather die an hundred deaths than be the means
of injuring a single hair of thy head—farewell!” said I,
pressing his hand to my heart.

“Stop,” said he, “I have thought of something—follow
me and do as I do. We will join the pursuers, and
by that means deceive them.”

“By this time the streets were full of people, some
going one way, some another. We ran out and asked
what was the matter—joined the tumult, and continued
to run hither and thither the whole night. The mob
could not give any satisfactory answer when interrogated
respecting the cause of the disturbance—some said the
city was betrayed, and others, that the States' men had
entered the city and carried off some prisoners by force,
and that the natives had rebelled and the Viceroy was

besieged in his palace. All this was well. When day-light
appeared, I returned with my friend to his house,
where I lay concealed in a private chamber six days.

“At the end of this time I came to the resolution of
disguising myself in the habit of a Spanish peasant, and
purchasing one of the floating gardens, and pursuing the
business of selling flowers to the inhabitants of Mexico
until an opportunity offered of effecting your escape.—
My friend for this purpose furnished me with a root,
with which I tinged my skin of a yellow colour. You
recollect my whiskers grew very long while I was in
prison. My hair I died black as jet.

“Thus disguised I left my kind entertainer one evening
and travelled nearly the whole night. By day-light
I had gained nearly the extremity of the lake,
where those gardens are constructed. But I found it impossible
to effect my purpose, from my inability to speak
their language correctly.

“The owners of those gardens discovered my foreign
accent, and evinced evident signs of distrust. They
eyed me with suspicious glances, and even hinted that I
must be one of those spies of whom they had heard such
terrible accounts. I sat down on the bank opposite to
them under a shade, and seemed perfectly unconcerned
at their conversation—which I appeared not to understand.

“Pretending drowsiness I threw myself on the ground,
and feigned sleep. I expected that perhaps they would
attempt to seize me, but it would have cost them dear,
(although there were five of them) armed as I was with
two pistols and a dirk I should have set them at defiance.
I reproached myself for not foreseeing the danger in
which my accent would involve me in personating a
Spaniard. I could easily have procured a garden without
any risk, through the agency of my kind friend, the
Indian, who was privy to my design.

“After resting myself sometime I got up and amused
myself in sauntering about and picking the wild flowers
which covered the banks of the lake, and by degrees I
lost sight of the gardeners. The moment I was fairly
out of view I mended my pace, nor stopped until I had

nearly doubled the lake, it being far advanced in the night
before I ventured to rest. At length coming to a rugged
cleft of rocks on the margin of the lake, where I could
with the utmost security conceal myself, I lay down with
my pistol in my hand, lest I might be attacked by wild
beasts. Nothing however interrupted my repose, and
with the dawn of morning I lodged myself in one of
those cavities. Here I resolved to stay until the bustle
which this last incident might occasion, was over.—Not
to tire you, I lay here two weeks, only venturing out at
night to pluck fruit for my sustenance.

“Finding myself grow feeble, and being impatient to
hear how you were, I ventured one dark night from my
hiding place and took the road to the city to see friend
Unco, (the Indian's name) and hear the news. I had proceeded
but a short distance when it grew so dark that I
was unable to discern a single object whatever. It now
began to thunder tremendously, and lightened with such
rapidity that heaven and earth seemed wrapt in fire—torrents
of rain succeeded.

“Aided by the lightning I pursued my way with all
possible dispatch, it being a good opportunity to enter
the city without discovery. At length I reached Unco's
door, wet enough, to be sure! but then I needed washing.
Unco received me kindly, and was much gratified to find
I was still alive and in the country.

“He said his lady had often been to his house to enquire
after me, and some reported “that one of those
outlanders had been seen on the lake, and it made a great
noise and strict search was made in that direction.—
When the truth was not confirmed the men who spread
it were taken up and put in confinement as impostors.”
I then asked him if he had heard, lately, from you. He
said his lady told him she believed you were well—but
confined in the dungeon.

“Unco,” said I, “I had like to have been discovered,
as you heard, on the lake, going there as I told you to
purchase a floating garden—and finally told him that he
must conceal me in his house a week or two longer, and
purchase for me one of those gardens, for I could not
leave the country until I could get my friend out of
prison.

“The kind creature furnished me with a plentiful
breakfast and prepared dry clothes of his own to put
on. I offered him money but he generously refused it.—
“Now,” said I to Unco, “I will lay down and take a
nap, and do you go and tell your lady that I am here and
would be glad to see her.”

“The next night she came and she and I concerted
the plan of your delivery.—I was to procure a garden
and go to her house every morning with the flowers.
She was to give me a bottle of wine, or money, or whatever
she chose I was to be disguised as an Indian and
to mix with the domestics at night—have plenty of wine,
treat largely, talk broken Spanish, dress in rags, and
the first dark night infuse a sleeping dose into the wine,
with which I was to ply the keeper who was immoderately
fond of the liquor, but dared not let it be known that
he drank while on duty.

“I continued with Unco about ten days, when I ventured
to put my scheme into execution, and every thing
succeeded as I wished. I was a jolly fellow at night,
(feigning to be drunk) the butt and ridicule of all the domestics—sometimes
I would dance the Indian dance, and
amuse them with every grimace of countenance and distortion
of body I could assume.

“Sometimes I would be absent several days: this
would heighten their desire to see me. We would on
these occasions double the quantity of wine.

“At length the propitious night arrived—the first bottle,
the second, and a third, were soon emptied, all well
charged with the opium. I soon tumbled over, fast
asleep as it were, and in a short time the others followed
my example. When they were all asleep I stole the
keys out of the keeper's pocket, and you know the
rest.”

Although well pleased to have it in my power to converse
with people who understood my native language,
(for there were several Englishmen on board) yet I was
far from being sure of gaining my liberty. I was in
continual dread lest the Spaniards might pursue and
overtake us.

The master smiled when I observed, “that we went
very slow.”

“You must have a sweet-heart,” said he, “whom you
are in haste to see—we go eight knots an hour.”

When we reached the entrance of the Gulf Stream not
far from Havana, a violent storm arose, which drove us
to the eastward in the direction of the Bahamas. Whilst
we were combatting the wind and waves we espied two
vessels making down upon us. The boatswain eyeing
them through a glass from the mast head, said they were
strange looking vessels and he could not tell to what
country they belonged. The captain was panic-struck,
and shook from head to foot, observing that “we must
be near the Bahamas, and it was quite probable the vessels
were manned by pirates who infested those seas. If
they are, we are gone,” said he, “for we have no metal
to oppose them.”

We were not left long to conjecture—Taking the advantage
of the wind, they bore down upon us like lightning.
We attempted to fly before them putting on all
sail, but they wheeled before the wind and poured in a
broadside before we had time to clear the deck. We
made what defence we were able, two guns being all that
we had, but never did guns do more execution. Wilson
and myself being skilled in artillery, played them off
two shots for one: but a shot taking effect in the hull,
and our mainmast being carried away at the same instant,
we were immediately boarded. Six of our men
were killed, and two mortally wounded. Wilson and
myself expecting no quarters, determined to sell our
lives dear. Taking up a sword that one of our men
dropped as he fell, I ran the first man through the body
that jumped on deck. Wilson followed my example:
he killed the next, I cut off the head of another and
wounded several, but being overpowered by numbers
who being assisted by the crew from the other ship, we
were disarmed, tied and put on board one of the pirate
ships.

Our captain fell at the first onset, and we had but two
men left when the pirates obtained the victory. I was
slightly wounded in my right shoulder, Wilson was unhurt.
The pirates dispatched the only two beside ourselves
that were unhurt—also those that were wounded,

their leader observing in the English language that
“them other dogs were brave fellows, and would serve
them well in a hard gale.”

As our vessel was filling fast with water, they hastened
to unload her, but found very little that suited them.
One small chest of gold ingots, a little silver, the stores,
with several chests of clothes, and some spices were all
they discovered. This I learned afterwards, for being
confined in the hold of their vessel, I saw nothing that
passed.

The action took place about three o'clock, and that
night about one o'clock we were set on shore. Wilson
and myself were blindfolded, for what purpose we
could not imagine. We spent the night on the beach in
a state of wretchedness that would baffle description.
The next morning we were placed on mules which were
led by the banditti to the distance of two miles, as we
supposed. We were then taken from the backs of the
mules, led into some secret place, and seated ourselves
together on the ground, but ventured not to speak, lest
we might be overheard. In the course, however, of an
after our arrival, the bandages were taken from
our eyes and we found ourselves in a spacious cavern
filled with these monsters of iniquity. Amongst them
was a female. There were about thirty men around us.
They brought us brandy in abundance (of which they
drank largely themselves) and likewise victuals to eat;
while we were eating I ventured to ask what they designed
to do with us.

“Why, d—n you,” said the head of the gang (as I
took him to be) “if you had your deserts you ought to
be shot in revenge for the life of the bravest of our men;
you have broke us up. But as you are good metal, you
may have your lives if you will agree to take his place
and take an oath to be true to the cause, you can have
your life upon no other conditions.”

“And would you require an oath?” said Wilson.

“That's a pretty question,” said he; “I would have
doubts even of that, but the moment you prove refractory,
d'ye mind, off comes your head with this,” showing
a huge sword.—“This is the fellow that never makes

mistakes; many a one it has taken off—see, there's the
blood on it, hardly dry since it sent a fellow to the other
world, as he said, to consider upon the proposal.—He
was a brave fellow too, d'ye see, but if you will stay
here and partake of our danger you may partake of our
wealth too. We get it hard and spend it like princes.
Come hand us more brandy—here, Jack, what are you
about? bring us plenty—We don't mind this business of
killing at all.” said he, addressing himself to me. “I
don't like to do it could it be helped, but we are too far
in now to retreat: and as I was saying, we are a set of
jolly fellows, so if you have a mind you can join us and
take pot luck; if not, its do your business, old friend,”
said he, pointing to the sword, “and that's an end of the
matter.”

I saw that remonstrance was useless, and told him
that we would take some time to consider the proposal.
I then related to him the whole story of our misfortunes,
and begged of him to suffer one of us, I did not care
which, to continue the voyage home; that were it not
for my sister I would rather die than not.

“Humph!” said the stern brute, “we have heard too
many such stories as yours—but I don't care a ropes-end
about it, only you're a couple of brave fellows, I'll
say that. You can have your choice—I'll give you till
evening to consider upon it.”

Then turning to his men, with an air of authority demanded
if every thing was safely lodged, and receiving
an answer in the affirmative, helped himself to another
draught of brandy. Being by this time nearly intoxicated,
and becoming drowsy he stretched himself on a pallet
and fell asleep. Four men took their station near
him with muskets in their hands. They held them between
their knees with the but ends on the ground, on
which they were seated. Wilson and myself sat and
looked at them in a state of mind that may easily be imagined.
For my own part, death had no terrors in it for
me. I had suffered more than twenty—more than a
hundred deaths—why then should I fear one? It was
pleasing to me to reflect that my destiny was now fixed
and certain.—If I acceded to the terms of the banditti I

might have a chance to escape to my country, and if not,
I might in death find a release from all my cares; but to
take the oath, to bind myself to murder my fellow-creatures—the
thought froze my heart. I will not do it,
thought I—I will never be a murderer!—God will certainly
not desert me; He will not punish a violation in
favour of mercy. I therefore resolved to take the oath.—
I mentioned this to Wilson in the Spanish language in a
low voice, lest I might be understood. He agreed with
me, and we said no more.

Nothing worth relating occurred during two or three
hours, when an incident put an end to all my hopes of
life. In asking me for something Wilson called me by
name. One of the banditti who had been earnestly looking
at me for some time coloured deep and examined me
still more earnestly.

I fastened my eyes upon him also: he was much disconcerted—his
face was familiar to me, I had certainly
seen him before, he was an elderly man, about forty
years of age. Good God! what was my astonishment:
it was Hunter! He was disguised as an Indian, but it
proved to be him. I saw in a moment, by his countenance,
that whatever Wilson's fate might be, I was devoted
to destruction. Be it so then, thought I, I would
rather die at once than be in a sea of eternal trouble, and
comforted myself with this reflection.

What could this monster be doing amongst those robbers?
Could he be in alliance with them? But the
atrociousness of his character, had they known it, would
have rendered him unworthy even of them.

A short time after this the head of the band awoke
and I was confirmed in my suspicion. The ruffian, Hunter,
called him to walk out of the cave. They were absent
some time, while I suggested the idea to Wilson,
whose grief (for the part he had acted in this last turn of
fortune) broke out into tears—but I observed that it must
ultimately happen.

In about half an hour they returned, and the Captain
of the band asking Hunter, “Which is he?” he thus addressed
me:

“Young man I have revoked your sentence; you are
known to one of our party as a traitor, and a dishonourable
man, who cannot be trusted. You must die.”

“He is a liar, and the blackest of villains:” said I,
with spirit—“and may the vengeance of Heaven overtake
him; he has ruined my family, he has murdered my
father and mother, and now he would murder me.”

“You know him then,” said the pirate.

“Yes, I do know him.”

“This act of duplicity, then, is sufficient evidence
against you. You knew him, and were silent.”

“I knew him not,” said I, “until the moment he discovered
me.”

“'Tis useless to say any more,” said the robber, “you
die, for if you are right in what you say of him, the
greater the danger—so draw up here. Stevens, take a
file of twelve, and take this fellow out and despatch
him—quick, I say.”

I arose, pressed Wilson's hand, and stepped out of the
cavern without speaking a word. I walked between six
men on each side, perfectly undaunted, with a firm step.
I was now soon to be out of trouble, and that was sufficient
to reconcile me to my fate. “You are accustomed
to this,” said I to one of the men that was next to me.

“Yes,” said he, “but I hate to kill a man in cool
blood for all that; but we must obey our Captain.”

“And are you not afraid,” said I, “that the vengeance
of heaven will one day overtake you.”

“How much further, Stevens?” asked one of the men.

“Just to that rock, there, before us.”

At this moment we heard a voice behind us—“Avast,
villains!”

The men stopped, and looked round, and behold—an
armed force stood before the cavern! At the same instant
a discharge of musketry brought several of the
pirates to the ground. I saw Wilson, the next moment,
in the arms of the strangers. He pointed towards us:
a large party advanced—

“Williams:” cried one of them, and approached us
at a running pace. Now, thought I, I shall be killed,
to a certainly, eiher by one party or the other; but hefore

either party fired, Wilson, (I suspect) interfered, for
the strangers called out, to surrender themselves, which
they immediately did.

Thus was I snatched from the jaws of death. Wilson
ran into my arms and sobbed aloud, upon my bosom,
while the strangers viewed us in silent amazement. I
next aproached my deliverers, and thanked them for my
life.

“D—n the dogs:” said an old looking veteran, “I
wouldn'nt a'missed this, d'ye see, for all Havanna; but
I had terrible work to get over these cursed stones.—
Why, it's a very d—s den o' a place—I sprained my
ankle to boot.

“Ferguson, take care of them fellows, and see what's
to pay. Oh, Lord, how my ankle hurts me.”

“Sambo, where is something? What hast thou
brought?”

“Here, massa,” handing a bottle.

“Well, let's sit down here, and ask these fellows
where their spring be, for we can't live here without
water.”

Sambo, who was a black man, appeared to be the servant
of the old soldier, immediately set out to find water,
and upon enquiry, of those in the cavern, where it might
be found, he returned with a full canteen, which he had
slung over his shoulder.

While Sambo was absent, the old gentleman enquired
how it came to pass that we fell into the hands of those
pirates, a circumstance which had been briefly imparted
to him by Wilson.

After giving him a summary of our imprisonment in
Mexico, and the particulars respecting our capture by
the pirates, I then related the whole circumstance of
Hunter's conduct to my father, and his late attempt upon
my life; all of which have already been detailed to
the reader.

“And where be this Hunter?” said the old gentleman.
“Is he amongst the number of the slain?”

“I know not,” said I, “I should be sorry, however, if
he were.”

“Here, go with this man—What be thy name, friend?”

“Burlington,” I replied.

“Burlington,” repeated he, “What was thy father's
ohristian name?”

“His name was Charles, sir.”

“And he lived in Plymouth, thee says?”

“He did, sir.”

“It must be he—must be my brother, my name is
Burlington. Did thee never hear him speak of a brother
he had, by the name of Thomas, who went to sea
when a lad?”

“My dear uncle,” said I, embracing him, “And is it
you that has saved my life—thank God, for he is once
more merciful. I did hear him speak of you often, and
often has he bewailed your death; for, my dear sir, we
heard you were dead.”

“That was a mistake, it was a man of the same name,
and may be a distant relation; he died in the East Indies;
I remember it well, many of my acquaintances were of
the same opinion as yourself, d'ye see, that it was me.—
Well, poor lad, thou hast seen hard service, as well as
thy uncle. Poor Charles, I little thought I should see
thee; but the will of heaven be done,” said he, wiping
the tears from his cheeks.

“Where's the cup, Sambo? Be that good water, thou
hast found?”

Sambo drew from his pocket a silver cup that held
nearly a pint—

“Dis good water, me believe, massa—he run out o'
one rock.”

“Very well, set it down; Sambo, here is a nephy of
mine, maybe thee will like to hear that.”

“What, nevy, massa?”

“Oh, it's just some o' my people—here, give the poor
boy something to drink, I'll warrant he is in need,”
handing Sambo the cup.

“Drink sir,” said I, “and I will pledge you.” He
drank first, and then handed the cup to Wilson and me.—
The old man desired me to take a guard, and ascertain
the number of the slain and prisoners, and see whether
Hunter was dead or alive.

There were fourteen killed and one just dying of his
wounds. Going into the cave, we found Hunter living
He refused even to look at me, though I called him by
name and asked him what death he expected to die.

Upon examining the contents of the cavern, we found
an immense quantity of specie, and several ingots of
gold, many trunks of clothing, some of which was of
the richest quality; besides casks of brandy, rum, molasses,
beef, pork, sea-buiscuit, coffee, sugar, butter,
and a great quantity of fruit of all sorts.

Independently of these articles, we found one of the
fair sex, which I mentioned before.

Ferguson, who appeared to be my uncle's head man,
had confined the prisoners in the inner part of the
cavern, amidst the plunder. This part was dark, and
separated from the outer part, and communicated with
it by a door, which was fastened with a strong iron
bar, and with a huge padlock.

We turned out our female prisoner, (who had accompanied
us with a lamp,) and left her at liberty
with Ferguson and his men, who stood guard in the
outer room of the cavern.

Had she been young and handsome she might have
been in some danger; but alas! she was neither the
one nor the other.

I returned and reported the substance of my discovery
to my uncle.

“Curse 'em,” said he, “many an honest man's life
has paid for their spoil, and yet, hang it, I hate to
shed blood.

“Go,” said he to his men, “and throw them fellows
out o' my sight. I've a notion to take up my quarters
on shore to night—What dost thou think boys? Think
Jinkins can take care o' the rigging to-night? It seems
a still evening, and they say as how there's good
cheer aboard.—Avast, there, lend a hand.”

Sambo and I both assisted him in rising to his feet.

“Ah, child! thy uncle is a poor old crazy vessel—
his voyage is almost completed—What do'st think,
Sambo, will Jinkins fancy that we're lost?”

“Oh, no, massa, he know you can be no loss—I
boun' he take care ob de tacklin' one night.”

“Well then, boys, we'll go and see what's to eat and to
drink.”

We assisted the old man in walking to the cavern,
with which he seemed much pleased, and observed that
“it was a main strong fortress.” He dismissed Sambo,
(who, it seems, was his cook, as well as his valet,) to
prepare supper, telling him to make the woman assist
him.—It appeared that besides the two rooms already
mentioned, there was a third, which was the old woman's
department. Thither they both repaired to prepare
supper.