At this they consulted in a low tone amongst themselves. They were all seafaring men, mostly very swarthy, and tanned by the sun and the wind. They wore long black hair, and silver and gold earrings, which glanced amid their greasy curls. Only two were fair and blue-eyed—namely, the men who first addressed me in Flemish or Dutch. After remaining for a brief time beside the spars, and seeming to consult as to whether they were worthy to be made a prize of, they decided in the negative, and dipping their oars into the water, rowed away, the steersman narrowly watching the run of the seas, so as to avoid being broached-to and swamped. In the meantime, I had clambered from the bottom of the boat, and looking over the bows, saw, not more than a third of a mile from us, a bark, which appeared to be both small and frail to contend with such a sea. The manner of her rig was new and strange to me, for she carried two masts, both very stout and short, and above them were two great supple yards, upon which was spread a good show of canvas, each sail being of that triangular form, called by the seamen who use them, lateen. In fine, the ship belonged to a port on the Mediterranean coast of France, and was of the class named feluccas.
It was necessary to approach the vessel with great caution, inasmuch as she rolled and surged excessively. We therefore came slowly up, under her lee-quarter, and a man, of very dark complexion, and the fieryest eyes I ever saw, jumped up upon the gunwale, and hailed the boat in French, but talking so rapidly, that I could make nothing of it. Then, a line having been thrown on board, it was made fast to me, and without more ado, I was soused into the sea, and dragged on board the felucca, where I lay panting on the deck, while the crew—very wild and fierce-looking sailors—amused themselves with my wretched appearance. Presently, however, the man who had hailed the boat, and who seemed to have great authority on board, came up to me, and putting the rest aside, said more deliberately than before, but still in French, and with a peculiar accent—
‘You are not, then, a Spaniard?’
I mustered my few words of French, and answered, that—‘I was not, but a Scotsman.’
Without more ado, he stooped over me, and searched my pockets. They contained some small English coins, being groats and silver pennies, and also a letter, which Captain Swanson, of the Jean Livingstone, had written to me to Leith. The sight of these things appeared to satisfy his doubts, for he spoke a few words in a kinder tone to those about him, and presently leaving me, a man dressed in a tarnished livery, like a lackey, brought me a great cup of hot distilled waters, which I greedily swallowed, and found myself comforted and refreshed. Being, however, much exhausted from the length of time which I had passed in the water, I laid me down upon a heap of sails in the forecastle, and being taken but little notice of, thanked God, inwardly, for my deliverance, and began to drop off to sleep. Only beforehand, like a sailor, I observed the course of the ship. The wind being westerly, and she being close hauled, and labouring heavily to windward, I deemed, and with truth, that her destination must be across the Atlantic. But whithersoever she went, with my then feelings, mattered little; I was saved from an early death, and grateful for my escape, I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
When I wakened it was dark night, and the first watch was set. As the wind, however, was now very steady, and the sea not only lower but regular, the men were mostly lying and dozing about the deck, except he that conned and he that steered. Seeing me stirring, a sailor presently came to me with a lantern in his hand, and, to my great joy, addressed me in English, asking me from whence I came, and the particulars of my disaster. Having shortly informed him, I requested that he would tell me what the ship was, which had rescued me, and what manner of treatment I might expect at the hands of the captain and crew. At first, he made as if he would put off talking of these matters, but as I was importunate, he asked me in turn, whether I had not heard of the great association of men of all nations, but principally Englishmen, Frenchmen, and Hollanders, who carried on a constant warfare with the Spaniards among the islands of the West Indies, and along the coast of Darien, sometimes even crossing that narrow neck of land, and descending with fire and sword upon Panama and other towns of the South Sea. To this I replied, that certainly I had heard of these companies, but only very partially and nothing distinctly, that they were, I supposed, the adventurers called Flibustiers or Buccaneers, and more anciently the ‘Brethren of the Coast.’ My new friend made answer moodily, that I should most probably have ample means of learning more of these Freebooters ere I put my foot on British ground again—‘That is,’ says he, ‘after you have either escaped or served your time.’
These phrases naturally threw me into great trouble, and I earnestly asked what he signified by them.
‘Why,’ he replied, ‘that you will be sold as an apprentice, or in other words, as a slave, to the French West India company, in the Isle of Tortugas, on the northern coast of Hispaniola, whither we are bound.’
At these words I grew sick at heart. ‘Better,’ I said, ‘to have allowed me drown in that sea than to have rescued me only to sell me into slavery.’
‘Not so,’ answered my companion, something sternly. ‘You are young, and have a thousand hopes before you. The Hand that miraculously preserved you this day is ever stretched out in wisdom and mercy, readier to help than to chastise.’