In vain I pleaded. My friend seizing me by the arm, dragged me away, while the savages hove Paul overboard.
“Go into my cabin,” he exclaimed, “its your only chance of safety.”
I saw, as he dragged me aft, that the Spaniards were preparing to throw several other slaves into the sea; and, as I turned my head, three in rapid succession were thrust through the gangway, secured, as the others had been, to floats.
My friend had not cautioned me without reason, for I heard the crew clamouring for the “Englez.” My friend went out to them, and on his return told me that they wished to throw me into the sea, but that he had advised them not to do so lest after all the schooner should be captured, when the captain of the man-of-war would certainly deal more hardly with them for having thus treated a countryman.
I thanked him for interfering as far as I was concerned, but, at the same time, could not help observing that the English captain would consider the crime of throwing any one overboard equally great, whatever the colour of the sufferer.
“Ah, we think little about the life of a black,” he answered carelessly.
“So it seems,” I said, for I felt utterly horrified at what I had witnessed. A feeling of desperate indifference to my own fate had crept over me. “Poor Paul! that the wretches should have treated you thus,” I said to myself. Then I remembered how Paul would have acted, and I prayed that he might be protected, though I confess I had little expectation of his escaping the ravenous jaws of a shark.
So eager was I to ascertain what had happened, that had not my friend locked the door on me, in spite of his warnings, I should have gone out again to watch the progress of the chase. Some time elapsed; I longed again to hear the sound of the corvette’s guns, but in vain. The wind had increased, as I could judge by the movement of the vessel; and I at length began to fear that she would after all escape.
Some hours passed away, my friend at length came back. “You are hungry, I dare say,” he said, “and you may come into the cabin and have some supper, but it is not safe for you to go on deck, the crew are angry at your having interfered about the black seaman; although our plan has answered, for your good natured-countrymen, by stopping to pick up the negroes, have enabled us to escape them. A few of the wretches were, to be sure, picked off by the sharks.”
“Did my friend, the black sailor, escape?” I asked eagerly.