CHAPTER VI.
FEVER’S DREAMS—STRANGE ADVENTURE ON SHORE.
“So when a raging fever burns,
We shift from side to side,
And ’tis a poor relief we gain
To change the place but keep the pain.”
“But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.”
Campbell.
“‘THE fiendish atrocities and cruelties of the terrible pirate Morgan,’ begins Miguel Bassanto, in this final chapter of his log, ‘had almost worn me out at last, and when cruising around Cuba, up the Gulf of Mexico, and along the shores of Florida in search of Spanish ships and gold, I was laid down with fever, and it was while thus prostrated that I tried to take into review all the events of my past life during those many, many years. Ought I to have remained with Morgan at all? I had often restored him to life and health when laid low with the illness that never failed to follow his drunkenness and awful carousals. Had I been doing my duty in acting thus? Would it not have been better for my poor, oppressed, and persecuted countrymen had I let him die, or even slain him some day in his tracks? But no; I had ever shuddered at the idea of committing murder, and by continuing to sail with Morgan I had, unknown to him, so worked and plotted and schemed as to save many a Spanish life, many a Spanish ship, and more than one town or village.
“‘Even when awake I could not accuse myself of remaining with Morgan’s fleet to do aught save good, and I did not blame myself for having spared his life, nay, even saved it many times, and oft for the simple reason that he trusted me most implicitly. I could not kill even a savage dog if he trusted me.
“‘But it was not all daylight with me during this burning fever. We were lying at the time in a lonesome little harbour off the southern coast of Cuba, and oh, when night fell—night and darkness, night but not silence, for sunset but heralded the commencement of orgies fore and aft that lasted long into the middle watch—then my spirits fell to zero. I felt no comfort in life, and yet I desired not to die. But when I did drop off to sleep at last, then the sufferings my dreams gave me were ten times more terrible than those of my waking hours.
“‘Fighting and bloodshed were ever before me, and, worse than all, the awful torture of innocent maidens and beautiful children. I daresay I had ever a well-balanced mind, and one which it was difficult to unhinge, else, when starting with gasp and shriek from dreams like these, I would have hurried on deck and thrown myself to the sharks that swarmed everywhere around us.
“‘One day Morgan, who, strangely enough, was sober, came off from the shore accompanied by a curious little half-caste, partly Spaniard, partly negro.
“‘“He is a native doctor, Miguel,” said the captain. “We are such old friends that I could not bear to see you die.”
“‘This was the only real act of kindness I had ever known Morgan perform.