"To Captain John Mackra, late of the 'Cassandra:'
"Sir,—If you choose to risk your life by coming hither, devil a word have I to say against it. They're a wild set of blades under me, and mind the helm no better than a washing-tub, so that my orders have little or no weight with them. All the same, if you're the man to come aboard, and have the courage to face the matter out, I'll do what I can to see that no harm happens to you. But if you'll take a friend's advice you'll stay where you are, and let a bad matter cure itself, for you know very well that there is no use splicing a rotten rope. As for the pickle you're in, lay that to your luck, and not to me.
"Edward England."
I was none too well pleased with this precious epistle, for I could see very readily how little command Captain England held upon the wretches under him. Nevertheless, it did not alter my determination to to go aboard of the pirate craft and to speak with him. I was the more inclined to do this as I felt well assured that the pirates could not now be as hot for my blood as they had been at first.
It was necessary for me to get away from the king's town without confiding my determination to any one, or any one having knowledge of my departure, for I knew very well that there was not one of my officers but would have stayed me from acting on my plans had they been informed of them, even if they should find it needful to use force to prevent my going.
It was the evening of the eighth day since the fight when Mr. White returned with Captain England's letter, and I determined that that very night should witness my departure upon my enterprise, which to one looking coolly upon it might seem little if any better than the frantic act of a madman. Nor was it that I myself was unconscious of the magnitude of these dangers, for I entered upon them only because that in the desperate state of our necessities I could see no other course out of our difficulties, and so had to choose this for lack of a better. Accordingly, as said above, I determined to set out that very night, for nothing could be gained by further delay.
There was no other choice left me but to make my way along the beach, which, although it would increase the distance by five or six miles, would yet afford me a sound and level highway for my journeying, the sand being firm and hard when the water was out at low tide.
That night I wrote a lengthy letter to Mr. Langely, giving him full particulars as to what I was about to undertake, and also instructions as to how he should proceed in the event of my not returning from my adventure. I also wrote my will, and settled all my affairs as well as I was able. This took until nigh midnight.
All this I managed to do without the knowledge of any one, and by the light of a little wick floating in a dish of oil, the flame of which I kept so well shaded that no one perceived it in all that time.