“I threw myself headlong into the water; and, though an excellent swimmer, I resolutely kept my face beneath the surface; yes, with desperate determination, I strove to force myself into the presence of that dread Being whom I had so grievously offended. When I came to my senses again, I was lying on a part of the beach I was unacquainted with; a tall, handsome, dark-featured young man, was bending over me, and, within a few yards of where I lay, a small light boat was drawn up on the shore.
“‘So you have opened your eyes at last, my friend,’ said the man; ‘you have had a narrow squeak for it. When I dragged you out of the water, like a drowned rat, I thought all was over with you. Have you as many lives as a cat that you can afford to throw away one in such a foolish manner?’
“‘Life! I am sick of it,’ answered I.
“‘Well,’ said he, ‘if that is the case, why not throw it away like a man, among men? Come with me, and I will furnish you with active employment to drive the devil out of your mind. But here, before we start, take some of the cordial to cheer you.’
“I was chilled and exhausted, and took a hearty draught. I felt its warmth steal through my frame—it mounted to my brain—I laughed aloud; I felt that I was equal to any act of desperation. Alas! I little knew the snare I was falling into. We launched the boat and sprang into it; and my companion, seizing the oars, pulled rapidly along the beach. After rowing some distance, we saw a light glimmering amid the bushes; it was now nearly dusk; my companion lay on his oars, and gave a long, low, peculiar whistle, which was immediately answered. He then ran the boat ashore; two men sprang in, who relieved him at the oars; and we again held on our way. There was a great deal of conversation carried on in a low tone; and from what I heard of it, half tipsy as I was, I inferred that my companion, whom the other men addressed with great respect, was a naval officer on some secret duty. Just as we were crossing the mouth of a narrow creek, a light four-oared gig dashed out after us, a voice hailed us in English to lie on our oars, and, when we still held on our course, a musket ball whizzed over us, to enforce obedience.
“‘The piratical rascals!’ exclaimed the young man; ‘if they lay hold of us, we are all dead men.’ ‘Here!’ continued he, seizing a musket, which lay in the stern sheets, and giving me another, ‘fire for your life!’
“I was half mad with fever, and the effects of my late draught; and, under the persuasion that our lives were in danger, I fired. The bowman of the gig fell, and we rapidly left her. We came at last to a narrow lagune, close to the low shore of which lay a small schooner at anchor, with sails bent, and every preparation for a start.
“‘Welcome on board the little Spitfire, my man!’ said the young stranger; ‘we want hands—will you ship?’
“‘What colours do you sail under,’ replied I.
“‘Oh, not particular to a shade,’ said he; ‘any that happens to suit us for the time being: black is rather a favourite.’