“Why, I think,” said Mendez, “he had a right to taste the rum, if he had helped to make as much of it as you and I have done. We nigers have a pretty time of it. They won’t let us live by land or by water. I wonder if we could please our masters by flying in the air? Why, now, wasn’t Cæsar hanged for what we’ve been doing?”—“To be sure he was,” returned Mark; “we must keep a sharp look-out. I guess our best plan will be to hinder any one from ever becoming a witness against us.” “How can we manage that?” demanded Mendez.—“Why, by pinking a hole in the bottom of our prizes, and making those on board of them drink our healths in salt-water,” said Mark. “Dead men tell no tales, you know.” “Well, I conclude it our only way,” replied Mendez, “though I should feel a little strange about sending a crew of white men to hell in a moment.”—“Why, they must all go there at last, you fool,” returned Mark; “think of the floggings you’ve got.”—“Ha, your words sound in my ear like the crack of a whip,” cried Mendez. “But I wonder the Yankees don’t know better than to hang us for being pirates. They can’t suppose that we’ll be so soft now as to let away the people who fall into our hands, and so give them a chance of informing against us. I’ll bet you we’ll kill five whites for every negro that is hanged.”—“Ay, and more too, if we choose,” said Mark. “Oh, we’ve a weary time of it, for most people think that we blacks do not deserve to live, unless we are slaves and beasts of burden. Faith, I’m getting tired of a sea-life. If I could but scrape together four hundred dollars, I would give up cruising, and go to St Domingo.”—“Why, you could have made that sum when you was last in Charleston,” returned Mendez.—“How so?” inquired his companion.—“Wasn’t you advertised as an outlaw?” said Mendez—“Wasn’t there a price set upon your life? you should have cut off your head and carried it to the magistrates, and demanded the sum that they offered for it.”—“Damn it now, Mendez, don’t begin to run me,” cried Mark, laughing. “I would have been a pretty figure without a head upon my shoulders.”—“Ah,” returned the other, “if you ever had had one upon them, you would not have let slip such a good opportunity of making money.”
We had now been cruising about for nearly three weeks without ever seeing a vessel. The mental and bodily inaction which had characterised the course of my life during that period were very depressing, and I began to wish for the appearance of a ship almost as ardently as the crew, though from totally different motives. Manuel neither seemed to feel much weariness nor impatience. He spent most of his time upon deck, and when the navigation of the schooner did not require his attention, he lay along the companion, basking in the sun, and smoking a cigar. He sometimes entered into familiar conversation with the seamen, though, in doing so, his object evidently was to keep them in good humour, rather than to amuse or gratify himself.
One morning, Manuel, after having looked through his glass at intervals during nearly two hours, announced that he saw a vessel off our lee-bow, and gave orders that the deck should be cleared, and the guns got ready for action. In a moment everything was bustle and confusion. On the word of command being given, the negroes threw off a large part of their clothes, and dispersed over different parts of the schooner, shouting to each other, and hurrying through their respective duties with a violence and eagerness which showed how congenial the prospect of bloodshed, oppression, and plunder, was to their feelings. They soon began to converse gaily and unconcernedly. One talked of the resistance we should probably meet with from the vessel we were in chase of; another jestingly said “he wished to write his will,” and mentioned what articles he intended bequeathing to his companions, should he perish in the conflict; a third complained of the defective state of his wardrobe, and enumerated the additions he hoped to make to it, when the anticipated prize fell into our hands. Manuel walked anxiously about the deck, sometimes looking through his glass, and sometimes giving directions to the helmsman.
I alone remained unoccupied and unattended to amidst the general activity. The quiescent and monotonous life I had led since I came on board the schooner, had lulled me into a forgetfulness of my real situation, all the horrors of which now burst upon my mind with appalling force. I had outlawed myself from society. I was surrounded with wretches, with whom I could have no community of feeling. I was soon to become, as it were, an accomplice in the work of rapine and bloodshed. We might, perhaps, be overpowered by those whom we proposed to attack, and I should be seized and classed with pirates. There was no one to testify my innocence, to prove that I had no connection with the guilty, or to save me from an ignominious death.
We soon discovered that the object of our pursuit was a brig of about two hundred tons burden. She seemed to suspect what we were, for she made all sail, and began to go large, although she had kept very close hauled before perceiving us; but our schooner, being very fast, and to the windward of her, gained upon her every moment.
About mid-day, we came within shot of the brig, and Manuel ordered a gun to be fired, as a signal for her to heave to. She paid no attention to it, and her crew seemed to be preparing for defence. He then pointed a cannon himself, and sent a ball through the lower part of her main-sail; but this not being what he wanted, he aimed again, and disabled her rudder.
She was now completely in our power, and we came within thirty yards of her. The boat being lowered down, Manuel, and fifteen of his crew, under arms, embarked, and rowed alongside of the brig, and ascended her gangway without meeting with any resistance. The Captain immediately advanced towards them, and said, “What right have you to stop me in the high seas?”—“Right! right!” returned Manuel; “none that I know of—only I’m stronger than you—but show me your manifest.”—“That I cannot do,” cried the Captain, “unless you promise——” “I’ll promise nothing,” interrupted Manuel; “yes, yes, one thing; none of you shall be maltreated, unless you offer to oppose my orders.”—“Fine conditions, indeed!” exclaimed the Captain; “Be pleased to tell me what you want here?”—“Bring me your manifest,” replied Manuel, “and then I’ll inform you. I mean to take whatever part of your cargo I choose, and likewise all the specie that is on board. Come down to the cabin, I must not be detained.”
They now both went below, and the negroes having received a signal from Manuel, ranged themselves on each side of the companion. They had scarcely done this, when a voice requested them to make way, and a gentleman, with a young lady leaning on his arm, and followed by a mulatto woman, came upon deck. They looked around them with an expression of terror and astonishment. The young lady on seeing the blacks turned pale, and clung tremblingly to her protector’s arm, and said something to him, but in such a low tone of voice that nothing but the word father was distinguishable. The gentleman once or twice seemed to be on the point of addressing the negroes, but he suddenly stopped as if aware that interference was useless.
A dead silence prevailed upon deck for some time, but the countenances of the different parties who occupied it, expressed more than words could have done. The females betrayed marks of deadening fear; the crew of the brig evidently struggled to resist the impulses of indignation, and the negroes seemed full of hope and impatience.