As we were near to the island and short of water, Captain Delmar resolved to touch at it, and remained two or three days.
The reader will perhaps recollect that the old Dutch gentleman, whose life I had saved in the pirate vessel, had stated that his name was Vanderwelt, and that he lived at Curaçao. The next evening we entered the harbour, and it was astonishing to every one how so strong a place could have been taken by so small a force. The commodore, who had plenty of work on hand, requested, or rather ordered, our captain to remain with him for ten days or a fortnight, to assist him.
On the third day after our arrival I obtained leave to go on shore, as I wished to find out the old Dutch gentleman. As I was again in the captain’s gig, I had very often landed, but had not had an opportunity of making inquiries, as I could not leave my boat and boat’s crew.
This afternoon I landed in the gig, and went up through the gate into the town, but I could not find anyone who spoke English. At last, by asking for the house of Mynheer Vanderwelt, it was pointed out to me, and I went up to the door; it was a very large house, with a verandah all round it, painted bright green and while alternately. There were several slaves sitting down at the entrance, and I asked for Mynheer Vanderwelt; they stared at me, and wondered what I wanted, but as I was in midshipman’s uniform, they were of course very civil, and one of them beckoned me to follow him, which I did, and was introduced to the old gentleman, who was sitting in a cane arm-chair with his pipe in his mouth, and fanned by two slave girls, about twelve years old.
As he had spoken to me in English on board of the pirate, I immediately went up to him, and said, “How do you do, sir?”
“I am very well, sir,” replied he, taking the pipe out of his mouth. “What do you want? do you come from the English commodore? What is his pleasure?”
“No, sir,” replied I; “I do not come from the commodore; but I came up to see you.”
“Oh, that is all,” replied the old gentleman, putting his pipe in his mouth again, and resuming his smoking. I felt rather nettled at his treatment, and then said—
“Don’t you know me, sir?”
“No, sir,” replied he, “I have not that honour. I have never seen you in my life before, and I do not know you.”