"Stop the boat! for God's sake stop the boat!" cried the captain.
"Why should I stop the boat?" said I; "my orders are positive, and you must remain with me."
I then went below for a minute or two, and the captain followed me.
"As you value your life, sir," said he, "stop the boat."
"Why?" asked I, eagerly.
"Because, sir," said he, "the ship has been scuttled by the men, and will sink in a few hours: you cannot save her, for you cannot get at her leaks."
I now did indeed see the necessity of stopping the boat; but it was too late: she was out of sight. The lanthorn, the signal for her return, had been hauled down, a proof that she had got on board. I hoisted two lights at the mizen peak, and ordered a musket to be fired; but, unfortunately, the cartridges had either not been put in the boat which brought me, or they had been taken back in her. One of my lights went out; the other was not seen by the frigate. We hoisted another light, but it gained no notice: the ship had evidently made sail. I stood after her as fast as I could, in hopes of her seeing us that night, or taking us out the next morning, should we be afloat.
But my vessel, deeply laden, was already getting waterlogged, and would not sail on a wind more than four miles an hour. All hope in that quarter vanished. I then endeavoured to discover from the captain where the leaks were, that we might stop them; but he had been drinking so freely, that I could get nothing from him but Dutch courage and braggadocia. The poor black man, who had been left with the captain, was next consulted. All he knew was, that, when at Bordeaux, the captain had caused holes to be bored in the ship's bottom, that he might pull the plugs out whenever he liked, swearing, at the same time, that she never should enter a British port. He did not know where the leaks were situated, though it was evident to me that they were in the after and also in the fore parts of the ship, low down, and now deep under water, both inside as well as out. The black man added, that the captain had let the water in, and that was all he knew.
I again spoke to the captain, but he was too far gone to reason with: he had got drunk to die, because he was afraid to die sober—no unusual case with sailors.
"Don't tell me; d——n me, who is a-feard to die? I arn't. I swore she should never enter a British port, and I have kept my word."