I dressed myself, and went on deck, saw the land, and a strange sail steering to the westward. The confounded dream still running in my head—like Adam, I "liked it not," and yet I thought myself a fool for not dismissing such idle stuff; still it would not go away. The Americans came on deck soon after; and seeing the ship steering to the westward, asked if I meant to speak her. I replied in the affirmative. We had then as much sail as we could carry; and as she had no wish to avoid us, but kept on her course, we were soon alongside of her. She proved to be a cartel, bound to New York with American prisoners.
In case of meeting with any vessel bound to the United States, the admiral had given me permission to send my prisoners home without carrying them to England. I had not mentioned this either to Peters or Green, for fear of producing disappointment; but when I found I could dispose of them so comfortably, I acquainted them with my intention. Their joy and gratitude were beyond all description; they thanked me a thousand times, as they did my friend Talbot for our kindness to them.
"Leftenant," said Peters, "I am not much accustomed to the company of you Englishmen; and if I have always thought you a set of tyrants and bullies, it arn't my fault. I believed what I was told; but now I have seen for myself, and I find the devil is never so black as he is painted." I bowed to the Yankee compliment. "Howsoever," he continued, "I should like to have a sprinkling of shot between us on fair terms. Do you bring this here brig to our waters; I hope to get another just like her, and as I know you are a d——d good fellow, and would as soon have a dust as sit down to dinner, I should like to try to get the command of the True-blooded Yankee again."
"If you man your next brig, as you manned the last, with all your best hands Englishmen," said I, "I fear I should find it no easy matter to defend myself."
"That's as it may be," said the captain; "no man fights better than he with a halter round his neck: and remember what neighbour Green has said, for he has 'let the cat out of the bag:' we should have no Englishmen in our service, if they had not been pressed into yours."
I could make no return to this salute, because, like the gunner at
Landguard Fort, I had no powder, and, in fact, I felt the rebuke.
Green stood by, but never opened his lips until the captain had finished; then holding out his hand to me, with his eyes full of tears, and his voice almost choked, "Farewell, my excellent friend," said he; "I shall never forget you; you found me a villain, and, by the blessing of God, you have made me an honest man. Never, never, shall I forget the day when, at the risk of your own life, you came to save one so unworthy of your protection; but God bless you! and if ever the fortune of war should send you a prisoner to my country, here is my address—what is mine is yours, and so you shall find."
The man who had mutinied in the boat, and afterwards entered on board the privateer, who was sent home with me to take his trial, held out his hand to Captain Green, as he passed him, to wish him good-by, but he turned away, saying, "A traitor to his country is a traitor to his God. I forgive you for the injury you intended to do me, and the more so, as I feel I brought it on myself; but I cannot degrade myself by offering you the hand of fellowship."
So saying, he followed Captain Peters into the boat. I accompanied them to the cartel, where, having satisfied myself that they had every comfort, I left them. Green was so overcome that he could not speak, and poor Mungo could only say, "Good-by, massa leptenant, me tinkee you berry good man."
I returned to my own vessel, and made sail for England: once more we greeted the white cliffs of Albion, so dear to every true English bosom. No one but he who has been an exile from its beloved shores can fully appreciate the thrill of joy on such an occasion. We ran through the Needles, and I anchored at Spithead, after an absence of fourteen months. I waited on the admiral, showed him my orders, and reported the prisoners, whom he desired me to discharge into the flag ship; "and now," said he, "after your extraordinary escape, I will give you leave to run up to town and see your family, to whom you are no doubt an object of great interest."