I looked again. I had no doubt she was the Opossum. “If I am not mistaken, she is the ship to which I belong,” I replied, calmly.
“Is she fast?” he asked.
“She is reputed so,” I answered. “But I doubt it she is so fast as this vessel.”
“For your sakes, as well as for ours, it is to be hoped not,” he observed, with a grin which I thought perfectly demoniacal. “If she overhauls us, we shall be obliged to put into execution a trick we play at times, when too hotly pursued by your cruisers; only, instead of expending our negroes, who are valuable, we shall be compelled to make use of you and your people. It will be happy for you, if there are no sharks ready to grab you before your ship lowers a boat to pick you up. You understand me?”
I did, too well. The slavers, when hotly pressed by a cruiser, will throw overboard some of their blacks, one by one, lashed to something to float them, trusting that the humanity of the British commander will induce him to heave-to, and to pick them up, although thus delaying him in his chase.
I felt very sure my one-eyed friend would put his threat into execution; and though it certainly afforded us a way of getting back to our ship, the risk in the interim of being caught by a shark was far too great to be contemplated with equanimity.
“If you do throw us overboard, I only hope that you will provide us with sticks, or some weapons with which to defend ourselves against the sharks,” said I.
“You are a brave boy,” said he, “and deserve a better fate; but it cannot be helped.”
There was a fine breeze, but nothing more; and by the time the schooner’s sails were trimmed, as I looked over the side I saw that she was making good way through the water. I doubted whether the Opossum could go faster; and I saw, at all events, that, like other stern chases, this would be a long one. It very probably would last two or three days, perhaps longer. I scarcely knew what to wish. Were it not for those dreadful sea monsters, we all of us might be able to get on board the brig, and help to capture the schooner afterwards, I thought to myself. We were allowed perfect liberty to walk about the decks as we liked; so I went up to Jack, and asked him what he thought about the probability of the brig overtaking us.
“Why, sir,” he replied, after contemplating her, and looking over the schooner’s side for some time, “this craft has got as clean a pair of heels as any vessel I was ever aboard; and though our brig, I’ll allow, is no laggard, I doubt if she’ll overtake her, if the wind holds steady, before we reach the West Indies, where, I take it, we are bound.”