Shortly after we had shoved off, we found ourselves chased by a long boat, which the waterman knew, by the sound of the oars, to be the guard-boat. How we did pull! But it seemed in vain; we found it would be impossible to reach the landing-place, so we pulled for the nearest point of land. The moment the boat touched the ground, I took the cask of sugar on my shoulder, and expecting solid ground under the boat’s bows, jumped ashore. Instead of solid ground, I found myself above the knees in mud. The guard-boat was within a hundred yards of the shore, and what was to be done! All that a man has will he give for his liberty, so away went the cask of sugar. Thus lightened, I soon scrambled out, when the three of us scampered off as fast as it was possible for feet to carry us. What became of the waterman, or his boat, or my cask of sugar, we never knew; nor did we think of stopping to breathe or look round us, till we reached the town of Peel, where by a blazing fire and over a dish of beef-steaks, and a few tankards of brown stout, we soon forgot our dangers and our fears.
Our residence here, as far as liberty was concerned, was pretty nearly on a par with prison residence. The second mate and I lodged together, and during daylight we never durst show our faces, except, perhaps, between four and six in the morning, when we sometimes took a ramble in a neighbouring burying-ground, to read epitaphs; and this, from the love of the English to poetical ones, was equivalent to the loan of a volume of poetry. But Time’s pinions seemed in our eyes loaded with lead, and we were often inclined to sing with the plaintive swain,
Ah! no, soft and slow
The time it winna pass,
The shadow of the trysting thorn,
Is tether’d on the grass.
And had it not been for the kindly attentions of our landlord’s two handsome daughters, to whose eyebrows we indited stanzas, I know not how we would have got the time killed.
Snug as we thought ourselves, the press-gang had by some means or other been put on the scent, and one day very nearly pounced on us. So cautious had they been in their visit, that their approach was not perceived until they were actually in the kitchen. Fortunately we were at this time in an upper room, and one of the daughters rightly judging of the purpose of their visit, flew upstairs to warn us of our danger, and point out a place of safety. This place was above the ceiling, and the only access to it was through a hole in the wall a little way up the vent. It was constructed as a secure place to lodge a little brandy or geneva, that sometimes found its way to the house, without having been polluted with the exciseman’s rod. It was excellently adapted to our purpose, and the entrance to it was speedily pointed out by our pretty little guardian angel. Up the vent we sprung like a brace of chimney sweeps, and had scarcely reached our place of concealment, when the gang rushed upstairs, burst open the door, and began to rummage every corner of the room. The bed was turned out, the presses all minutely examined, and even the vent itself underwent a scrutiny, but no seamen could be found.
“Tell us, my young lady, whereabout you have stowed away them there fellows, for we knows they are in the house?”
“What fellows?” said the dear little girl, with a composure which we thought it impossible for her to assume so soon after her violent trepidation.