“I wish, Huckaback,” observed the pacha, angrily, “that you would go on with your story: you are talking to a dead woman, instead of a live pacha.”
“I intreat your pardon,” replied the renegade; “but to amuse your highness, I have entered into scenes which long have been dismissed from my memory and the feelings attending them will rise up, and cannot well be checked. I will be more careful as I proceed.”
Cerise was melancholy at the idea of my departure. I kissed the tears away, and the time flew rapidly. I persuaded her to allow me an interview after the family had retired, as I had much to say to her.
“Well, well, we’ll suppose all that,” observed the pacha, impatiently: “now go on; you remember you were to set off in the morning.”
“Yes, yes, your highness,” replied the renegade, somewhat displeased.
And I did set off in the morning upon one of the marquis’s horses, and rode as hard as I could to Toulon. I determined again to try my fortune at sea, as I was afraid that I should be discovered if I remained on shore. I purchased a small venture with the money in my purse, and having made my agreement with the captain of a vessel bound to St. Domingo, exchanged my dress for a jacket and trousers; and was again at the mercy of the waves.