“Meanwhile,” said he, “you see how I am situated; I have lost both my officers, and have no one on board but yourself in the least capable of taking their places. I saved your life—or spared it, which comes to the same thing—and I now ask you to make me the only return in your power by assisting me in my difficulty.”
“Before I give you any answer to that,” said I, “I must ask you to explicitly define and accurately set forth the nature of the assistance that you desire me to render.”
“Certainly,” said Mendouca. “All that I ask of you at present is to relieve me by taking charge of a watch, and assisting me to navigate the ship. With regard to the latter, I consider myself capable of taking the ship anywhere, and have as much confidence in myself as a man ought to have; but ‘to err is human,’ and it increases one’s confidence, and confers a feeling of security, to have some one to check one’s calculations. And as to the watch, unless you will consent to keep one for me, I shall be compelled to keep the deck night and day. Now, it is no great thing that I am asking of you in return for your life; will you do it?”
“Give me half-an-hour to consider the matter, and you shall then have my reply,” said I.
“So be it,” he answered. And then the matter ended, for the moment.
It was a question that I found it by no means easy to decide. Here was I, an officer in the service of a country pledged to do its utmost to suppress the abominable slave-traffic, actually invited to assist in the navigation of a ship avowedly engaged not only in that traffic but—according to the acknowledgment of her captain—also in, at least, occasional acts of piracy! What was I to do? On the one hand, I was fully determined to do nothing that could be construed into even the semblance of tacit acquiescence in Mendouca’s lawless vocation; while, on the other, I undoubtedly owed my life to the man, and therefore shrank from the idea of behaving in a manner that might appear churlish. Moreover, it appeared to me that by rendering the trifling service demanded of me, I should find myself in a position to very greatly ameliorate in many ways the condition of the unhappy blacks down in the dark, noisome hold. The end of it all was, therefore, that at the expiration of the half-hour I had determined—perhaps weakly and foolishly—to accede to Mendouca’s request. I accordingly went to him and said—
“Señor Mendouca, I have considered your request, and have decided to accede to it upon certain conditions.”
“Name them,” answered Mendouca.
“They are these,” said I. “First, that my services shall be strictly confined to the keeping of a watch and the checking of your astronomical observations. Secondly, that you undertake to perpetrate no act of piracy while I am on board. And, thirdly, that you will allow me to leave your ship upon the first occasion that we happen to encounter a sail of a nationality friendly to Great Britain.”
“Is that all?” demanded Mendouca. “By my faith, but you appear to attach a somewhat high value to your services, señor midshipman! I spared your life; yet that does not appear to be a sufficient reason why you should afford me the small amount of help I require without hedging your consent about with ridiculous and impossible restrictions! I am surprised that, while you were about it, you did not also stipulate that I should abandon the slave-trade while the ship is honoured by your presence! I am obliged to you, Señor Dugdale, for your condescension in giving your distinguished consideration at all to my request, but your terms are too high; I can do better without your help than with it, if it is to be bought at the price of such restraint as you demand.”