[Original]
My eyes were turned towards the slaver. Before this, I knew that the infernal deed must have been consummated, and that, to protract the lives of some dozen guilty wretches, two hundred innocent victims had been immolated! A feeble gleam twinkled from the vessel; it faded into darkness; and a dull mass, shapeless and colourless, showed me the spot, where, upon the waveless ocean the felon-ship lay sleeping.
I looked again. Suddenly, a blaze, as if some inflammable matter had been ignited, burst from the slaver and dispelled the darkness. The outline of the vessel became distinct; the flame waxed stronger still; every rope and sail was visible; and I could perceive figures on the deck, rush to and fro, as if in wild disorder. The glare grew redder yet—the ship was in a blaze from stem to stern—and in their nefarious attempt to suffocate their victims, the villains fired the vessel!
I turned the boat’s head towards the burning ship; and after rowing a short distance back, rested on my oars. I knew that if I attempted to near the vessel, the skiff would be overcrowded, and all must perish. Shrieks, wild and maddening, like those of despairing men, were heard—every inch of canvas which had hung dangling from the yards, was wrapped in fire, and the loftiest spars were burning! It was a grand, but terrible spectacle; and I strained my eyes to gaze upon it until the red glare pained them. At once, a column of brilliant light mounted to the skies, followed by a heavy, dull, concussion, which came trembling over the water, and rocked my little skiff. A cloud of smoke succeeded. Suddenly the light vanished; darkness returned denser than before—night and stillness resumed their silent reign. The magazine had exploded—and the slaver was now buried in the depths of ocean!
In tropic climes, night is but a name, and morning broke immediately. I gazed over the ocean expanse, as the first glow of sunshine reddened its surface, bright and unruffled as a mirror, excepting one small spot ahead, which was covered with floating wreck. There, the slaver had gone down, and I looked fixedly in that direction. On a scathed beam, I fancied I could perceive a human form attached. I rowed to the place. To the half-burned portion of the wreck, a fine negro lad was holding with desperate tenacity; but he was nearly exhausted, and it was with much difficulty I could drag him into the boat. In a few minutes he was sufficiently recovered to know that I had rescued him from death, and with looks of mute intelligence he seemed to thank me for timely succour. I gave him a biscuit; he seized and ate it ravenously. No wonder, poor boy! for five long days, food had not passed his lips. With expressive signs he intimated that he would hereafter consider himself my slave; and by looks of encouragement, in return, I assured him of protection. It was a simple contract after all, and made under unusual circumstances; but it has lasted, and will last, for life. That negro youth was Dominique.
Before I had time to smile at the mockery of a forlorn wretch like myself, assuming a momentary superiority over another cast-a-way, saved mercilessly from an easier death to perish by the more dreadful agonies of thirst and hunger, a light air came stealing over the glassy sea. I looked anxiously to windward. Far off, a breeze darkened the blue water, and in ten minutes we felt its influence, and our boat danced merrily on the tiny waves which curled the ocean for as sight could wander. I felt as if Heaven had been appeased, and vengeance satisfied; and hope once more replaced the dark despondency to which I had abandoned myself, as one whose doom was sealed.
Nor was that cheerful foreboding unfulfilled. Within an hour, and dead to windward, a speck appeared upon the edge of the horizon, and seemed, by slow degrees, to rise gradually from the ocean, until a goodly ship presented itself to the eye; and down she came before a leading breeze, with all the canvas set her spars could spread. We lay directly in her course. I hoisted a signal on an oar, and it was seen and answered—for presently the stranger took in sail, lowered a boat, sent it to our assistance, and “I and my man Friday.” as worthy Robinson would say, were kindly received on board a vessel that proved to be a Portuguese trader, bound for the Brazils. My story was readily believed, namely, that our ship, an honest merchantman! had accidentally caught fire, and all except the negro and myself had perished. No doubt could be entertained of the correctness of this statement, for our deliverers had seen the blaze, and heard the explosion, when becalmed, at too great distance to render us relief.
I was landed safely in Rio Janeiro, and another epoch in an eventful life began. The history of seven years would require too much time to give it in detail—it must be confined to a brief summary. The owner of the vessel that had picked me up was a merchant of high respectability. The tale of my escape from a burning ship and ultimate starvation, had interest, and, pitying my destitution, he offered me a berth in a coasting vessel which belonged to him—I accepted it, and in a few months became its captain. I traded for him honestly and successfully, and rose by degrees rapidly in his estimation. Every year brought me fresh tokens of his confidence and esteem, until at last, I became a partner in his business. In every commercial adventure fortune befriended us; and when the old man died, and the affairs of his house were finally arranged, I, who had landed on the wharf of Rio without a second shirt, found myself a merchant of repute, and possessor of thirty thousand dollars. I must add, that I had assumed the name of Hartley, and that, during this season of good fortune, my faithful negro shared and enjoyed that period of treacherous sunshine.