However, he went away; and scarcely had he gone when another came, as drunk as the first, and, like him, too, an Irishman. He was the surgeon, who at first addressed me with some Latin words,—Pater, misereor. I attempted to reply to him in Latin; but I soon found that these words constituted the whole of his knowledge of the language; and, as he was no better acquainted with French, we could hold no conversation together.
In the mean while it grew late, and I felt sleepiness pressing on me, having scarcely closed my eyes during the preceding nights. I did not know where to go to obtain a little repose. The ship was so careened over that it was necessary to be continually fastened to prevent one’s self rolling. I wanted to lie down in one of the three berths; but I did not dare, for fear some one would immediately force me to leave it. The captain saw my embarrassment, and, touched with the miserable figure we made, sitting on the chests,—the storekeeper and myself,—he told us we could lodge in the berth at the bottom of the cabin. He even added, politely, that he regretted not being able to give one to each, but his ship was too small to do so. I very willingly accepted his offer, and we arranged for ourselves as well as we could on a pile of rags.
Notwithstanding all the disquietudes of my situation, I was drowsy from weariness, and during the night slept half the time. Being half the time awake, I perceived that the vessel had begun moving. It insensibly floated; and, to prevent it from afterwards settling down again, they drove two yard-arms into the mud, one on each side, which should hold the hull of the vessel in equilibrium.
As soon as day came, and it was necessary to take some nourishment, I had a new source of torment, for the water was so offensive that I was not able even to taste it. The Indians and negroes, who certainly are not at all fastidious, preferred to drink the water of the river, however muddy and brackish it may be. I inquired, therefore, of the captain why he did not procure other water, since very near this was a spring, to which I was accustomed to send to procure the water I used at the fort. He made no reply, thinking, perhaps, that I wished to lead him into some ambush. But, after having thoroughly questioned the French, the negroes, and the Indians, whom he had taken prisoners, he determined to send the long-boat to land, with my slave. It made many trips during that and the following days; so that we all had the pleasure of having good water, although many scarcely used it, preferring the wine and rum which they had on the deck at will.
I ought, however, to say in commendation of the captain that he was entirely sober. He even frequently expressed to me the pain he felt at the excesses of his crew, to whom, according to the custom of these pirates, he was obliged to allow an abundance of liberty. He made me afterwards a disclosure, which was sufficiently pleasant.
“Monsieur,” he said to me, “do you know that tomorrow, being the fifth of November, according to our method of computation” [for we French people count it to be the fifteenth], “the English have a great festival?”
“And what is the festival?” I asked him.
“We burn the Pope,” he answered, laughing.
“Explain to me,” I said; “what is this ceremony?”
“They dress up in a burlesque style,” he said, “a kind of ridiculous figure, which they call the Pope, and which they afterwards burn, while singing some ballads; and all this is in commemoration of the day when the Court of Rome separated England from its communion.[17] To-morrow,” he continued, “our people who are on shore will perform this ceremony at the fort.”