A rope was hove to us, and I clambered up her side, Paul following me. We were both so weak when we reached her deck that we could scarcely stand. I pointed to my mouth, just able to murmur, “water! water!”
“Si, si, aqua aqua,” said a man, who appeared to be an officer; when one of the men dipped a mug into a cask on deck, and brought it to us. I took part of the contents then handed it to Paul; but the seaman signed to me to drain it myself, casting, I thought, a contemptuous glance at my negro companion. However, he brought another cup full, and even though I emptied it to the bottom, still my thirst was scarcely quenched.
An officer now appeared from below, and addressing me in English, asked me how I came to be in the boat. I told him exactly what had occurred.
“It is fortunate for you that we picked you up, for another vessel might not pass this way for days to come,” he observed. “But what a pity so rich a cargo should have been lost.”
The unhappy fate of the poor captain did not seem to concern him much.
I could not make out the character of the vessel.
She was Spanish, I guessed, and her officers and crew appeared smart active fellows; and though she looked in some respects like a man-of-war, she certainly was not one. Her hatches were off, and as far as I could judge there was nothing to show that she was a slaver.
The officer who had spoken to me finding that I was a young gentleman, politely invited me down into the cabin, telling Paul that he might go forward among the men. Paul thanked him, and took advantage of the permission granted him. The officers were going to breakfast, and I was very thankful when they invited me to join them. Altogether they treated me very civilly.
I found an opportunity of speaking to Paul during the day.
“Bad vessel this,” he whispered. “Dey put you on shore soon Massa Harry, and so no harm come to you, but I fear they make me slave, and I no get back to see my moder. Still I pray God that He find a way for escape.”