I observed the captain frequently wetting his finger and holding it up, and soon I felt a light breeze blowing from the land. The sails were let fall, and the crew making another desperate effort, the schooner glided away up to her anchors. No time was lost in weighing them. I thought the crew would have shouted to show their satisfaction, but not a sound was uttered. Onward she glided, keeping close in-shore.
My heart sank within me, and my hopes of escaping from the vile slave ship vanished. The lead was kept going. I felt sure that no stranger would venture to stand in so close to the coast as we were doing. On we stood till the Spanish seamen seemed satisfied that they had made good their escape from the boats of the cruiser. As the schooner had by this time nearly a full cargo of slaves, I feared that she would not again touch on the coast, and that I was destined to make a voyage on board the hateful craft across the Atlantic.
Chapter Eight.
The Spaniards believing the man-of-war to be far away, steer to the westward.—We sight her, and she chases us.—Cruel device of the slaver’s crew to assist their escape.—Paul, among others, being thrown overboard that the man-of-war might have to pick them up; I fear that he has been lost.—My life preserved by one of the officers, when threatened by the slaver’s crew.—The schooner escapes, but dismasted in a gale, and again overtaken.—Paul and my cousin Jack come on board, and I join the corvette as a midshipman.—Returning to England I restore Cheebo to his mother.—My adventures show that “all works together for good to them who love God.”—Jack becomes a commander, marries my sister Mary, and I find ample means for supporting the rest of my dear sisters.
The schooner ran on during the night, keeping the coast close aboard to enjoy the advantage of the land breeze. I managed to get a word with Paul to ask him whether he thought there was a probability of her making her escape. “I pray God for the poor slaves,” he answered, “and hope English cruiser still catch her.”
As may be supposed a very bright look-out was kept for the cruiser. As the day advanced she was no where to be seen, and the captain, anxious to make as quick a run as possible across the Atlantic, the vessel’s head was turned to the westward, the wind still blowing off shore. Still, however, a haze hung over the ocean, sufficiently thick to prevent objects being seen in the far distance. This seemed still further to favour the escape of the slaver.
We had got some distance off the land when the haze lifted, and away to the southward a sail was seen, which the Spaniards at once seemed to know was the British man-of-war. She saw us at the same moment, and crowded all sail in chase. The schooner was put before the wind, which now came from the southward, and every stitch of canvas she could carry was set, men also going aloft with buckets of water to wet the sails.
Again the same scene of impotent rage I had before witnessed was enacted, and the fury of the Spaniards increased as they saw the man-of-war gaining on us, she apparently having more wind than we had.