CHAPTER VI.
SPIRITING AWAY—WHERE IS THE BALLAHOO?
The lieutenant commanding the Spider came on board, and finding we were bound for Kingston, strongly recommended our not attempting it alone, as he said privateers were swarming between it and the west end of Jamaica; but, on hearing that, although, the Ballahoo was bound for Kingston, my destination was the north side of the island, he politely said, that, although bound for Havanna, he would himself see us into Montego bay, where the brig might remain until the coast was clear, or she could get convoy. This was too good an offer to be rejected, and we accordingly hauled our wind, and made all sail in company.
We, the master, his mate, and myself, were sitting at dinner in the cabin on that same afternoon, the Spanish gentry preferring to eat their garlic and "bacallao" and oil on the deck.
"I was glad to see your servant out of his hammock and on deck again to-day. He is a smart chap that, and managed the small-arm party exceedingly well. He seems quite at home with the musket, I assure you, sir."
I laid down my knife and fork at this speech of the captain.
"My servant—my servant, did you say?"
"Yes, sir;—did you not notice how well he behaved on the forecastle, when the schooner was drawing a-head of us?"
I had noticed a black fellow, in an old red jacket, very active certainly during the brush, and especially the coolness and expertness with which he had fired; but I little dreamed who it was.