We struck into the edge of the surf, splashing through the water where it was but a few inches deep, hoping thus to put the dogs off the scent. In a little while, however, we found this failed to check them, for, while they stopped a few minutes at the spot we struck the water, they soon showed sagacity enough to burst into full cry and come tearing up the beach in our wake.
We were now nearing houses again, and in a moment bright lights shone ahead. A large building on the edge of the town showed lights in many windows, and the sound of music and hoarse voices came forth. It was evidently a place for fishermen and traders to carouse, and we headed straight for it as the baying drew close to our heels. The door was open, and in we dashed, flinging it to in the faces of as ugly a pair of brutes as I ever saw.
The hounds were evidently well trained to hunt slaves, for they flung themselves against the panels until the lock burst and the door flew open, letting them into the room in full cry.
Our entrance into the company collected in that place naturally caused some commotion. The big Welshman, Jones, was in the act of footing a hornpipe with a tall, yellow girl for a partner; Martin sat with a mug of ale on one hand and a stout blond woman on the other, and he fiercely squeezed and pulled an old accordion, while the black Doctor howled and patted time with his bare feet upon the prostrate form of Ernest, the German. The rest of the company were ranged about, looking at the big Welshman, roaring or screaming as the case happened to be.
For an instant the crowd stopped spellbound at our headlong entrance. Martin was in the act of hurling the accordion at us in his anger at being interrupted. The door crashed in, and the two black shapes leaped among them.
The hounds, with their flaming eyes and lolling tongues, presented a hideous spectacle, and the effect of their headlong plunge was too much for the nerves of the drunken crew. There was a wild howl of terror and a general scramble. I knocked over one lamp, and Tim adroitly dowsed the other, causing total darkness, and then above the wild din I could hear Martin’s voice, roaring:
“’Tis th’ dev’l, man! Tis th’ dev’l! Gawd save us, ’tis th’ dev’l himsel’! Coom out an’ fight like a man, ye coward! Coom in th’ light, an’ I’ll whollop ye like a babe, ye sneakin’ traitor! Coom out an’ stan’ to a true Christian sailor--ho-oo-t!”
The screams of the women and bawling of the men, coupled with the deep baying howls in the darkness, caused a disorder hard to describe.
There were several windows in the large room, but in the wild scramble these were overlooked by some, and, before the hounds could disengage themselves from the struggling crowd, Tim and I had leaped out and were running wildly into the streets of Nassau.
Windows were thrown open and heads peered out, looking in the direction of the uproar, and I distinctly heard several doubtful encomiums pronounced upon the habits of sailors by some of the more respectable residents of that not very pious town. Then we fell into a walk, somewhat amused at our sudden deliverance, and soon mingled with the loungers upon the broad street, which at this early hour was still full of people.