Be not afraid!
’Tis but a pang, and then a thrill,
A fever fit, and then a chill,
And then an end of human ill;
For thou art dead.
Scott’s Lay of Louise.
The Scorpion and her prize had arrived safely in Havana. Willis, heavily manacled, was brought on deck, where, joined by the small remnant of his crew, amongst whom he was glad to discover the face of Mateo, though its symmetry had been spoiled by a cutlas-cut, extending from under his right eye to the left corner of his mouth, entirely severing the end of his nose. The captain of the Maraposa was kept a few moments waiting, and then, under a strong guard, they were all carried to the Moro Castle, and lodged in its dungeons, were left to await their trial.
Mateo and the rest of the men were put in a cell together, Willis, for greater security, had been confined in a strong apartment alone.
It was the first time the slaver had ever been in prison, and the close, dank air, the gloom, the high, dull, cold, stone walls, the heavy fetters upon his limbs, the entire lack of any thing external to distract his thoughts from his situation, all together, produced a feeling of depression he had never known before.
Thus was he four days, with naught to while away the time but his own thoughts, and they brought any thing but comfort to his mind, for the past scenes of a misspent life were constantly presenting themselves with the vividness of a panorama.