“I was not a welcome caller at the tavern, was told with an oath that neither Villecourt nor Ralston was in the house. There seemed nothing to do, and I turned down the ill-smelling passage leading to the side entrance, when, from a room on the right, I heard Dick’s strong young voice cry out, ‘You are a knave, sir!’
“I tried to open the door; it was bolted. I threw myself against it and the rotten casing yielded, the door burst open. The room was in semi-darkness, one candle, along with the cards, having been upset and 150 knocked to the floor. Dick with uplifted cane stood over the cowering Villecourt. Hearing the noise of the bursting door, and doubtless thinking Villecourt’s friends were coming to the rescue, he wheeled and struck me a savage blow.
“How long I remained unconscious I do not know. I awoke with an aching head on a pallet of filthy straw. The place I was in was in utter darkness. I listened for any sound which might explain my situation. The vile odours of a ship’s hold, the sound of water, and a slight sense of motion convinced me I was on shipboard! I felt in my pockets, but they had been rifled!
“I fell asleep, or fainted, and was again awakened with an oath. I was on board a ship bound from London to Norfolk, Virginia, and soon learned that I not only was to work but would be sold on arrival there for a sum equivalent to the cost of passage. How I toiled until I secured my freedom!
“You know the rest, except my motive for not giving my full name. That I scarcely know myself, but suppose shame at the condition in which I found myself led me into the deception, and I adopted the first name that suggested itself. Afterward, an explanation would have been embarrassing and apparently of no value, yet I much regret the mistake.
“What became of Dick Ralston I have never learned. He may have been killed, and the crime laid at my door. The place he was in was one convenient for such a crime. Had he lived I am sure he would have prevented my being put aboard the ship, for he 151 was as brave and loyal to a friend as he was reckless. As for the name Allison, it is as honourable as the other, and I intend now to retain it and hope you will appreciate the wisdom of so doing.
“My life at times seems a failure, but that is when I am thinking of the little of this world’s gear I have accumulated for my family. In you, beloved, and in our dear children, I am blessed beyond my deserts. That you may forgive my unintentional deception, and never have cause to suffer by reason of it, is my daily prayer. Believe me, your affectionate husband,
“David Allison.”