"Old Mr ***," rejoined De Walden, "who told me this morning that she was blind, for from the appearance of the body we should not have found it out, also informed me that she had shoved out in a small canoe, manned by two of her slaves, after the felucca was at sea, at least so Adderfang said; and as several guarda-costas were on the look-out for him, he had found it impossible to send her back to Havanna again. But enough of this poor girl and her misfortunes, Mr Brail; it is time we were on board." And accordingly I that day took up my quarters in the Spider.
The following morning I was invited by Tooraloo, whose heart was like to break, to repair on board the Moonbeam, in order to be present at the opening of Lennox's papers. De Walden accompanied me.
The will was autograph, and from its tenor, the poor fellow seemed to have had a strong presentiment that his days were not to be long in the land; at least that he was never again to revisit Scotland.
It purported to have been written after he had been ill on the voyage, and, amongst other clauses, there was one, leaving my uncle and myself executors, along with his old father and the clergyman of his native parish in Scotland.
He left several legacies among his kindred and friends at home; one thousand pounds to me, a very agreeable surprise; another thousand to be funded, or mortified, I think he called it, to increase the salary of the parochial schoolmaster of Lincomdodie for ever; five hundred pounds to Tooraloo; and the residue to his father; failing him, to be divided in certain proportions amongst the others. It was in fact an exceedingly prudent distribution (especially with regard to the L.1000 to myself, you will say), according to my notion; although the idea was strange of a poor fellow willing away thousands, who had all his life, with a brief exception, been himself struggling with the most abject penury.
When I read out Tooraloo's legacy, the poor fellow wept and ho'hoed after his fashion. "I give and bequeath to Tobias Tooraloo, the sum of five hundred pounds."
"Ho! ho! ho!" blubbered Toby; "Currency or sterling, sir?"
"Of the current money of Jamaica."
"Hoo! hoo! hoo!" roared the skipper, whose lachrymose propensity seemed to increase in the precise ratio of the exchange; L.100 Jamaica currency being at that time only equal to about L.60 British sterling.
The following day we weighed for Jamaica, and the Moonbeam for the Indian coast, after having said good-by to old Mr ***, who, we found afterwards, bore an excellent character; but of course he had to yield to circumstances in his unprotected condition, whenever a privateer chose to anchor in his neighbourhood. He took the precaution, however, before we left, of arming his head negroes, in case the privateer's men, who had taken to the woods, should prove troublesome after our departure, but I never heard that they did so.