“Well, sir, I am an unfortunate fellow, who wishes that he was anywhere but where he is. I see that you are not one of the Eagle’s crew, and so I don’t mind telling you. I joined her to save my life, and now that I am ill I am allowed to die like a dog by myself, with no one to look after me. I was left on shore sick, and since I grew worse I have been unable to get any food, and I am too weak to walk.”
Owen promised to try and induce Mammy to supply the poor fellow with nourishment. He would at once have hurried back, but he was anxious, having got thus far, to obtain a view of the harbour. Accordingly, telling the man he would send him relief as soon as possible, he, with Dan and Tim, left the hut, and made their way on, keeping themselves concealed as much as possible among the trees and bushes till they came in full view of the harbour.
It was a wide lagoon, which narrowed towards the southern end, where a perpendicular cliff of some extent rose directly out of the water, its summit covered with trees. Both Owen and Dan were of opinion that this formed one end of the channel leading to the sea. No boats or canoes could be discovered on the beach. Further along it to the northward were seen a number of huts and buildings of larger size, probably storehouses. People were moving about among them, but it was impossible at the distance they were to know if they were blacks or whites. In the centre of the harbour lay the Ouzel Galley, much in the condition in which she had been when captured, and there were several smaller vessels at anchor, completely dismantled.
So far the inspection of the harbour had been satisfactory; there was nothing that Owen could see to prevent the possibility of their escaping. The party hastened back to the house. Mammy scolded them for being so long absent. “If cappen here, you no do it,” she observed; by which remark they guessed that, though she held O’Harrall in awe, she had herself no ill-feeling towards them. On Owen’s telling her of the sick man, she consented to let Pompey take him some food, and undertook to visit him herself, provided they would promise not to leave the house during her absence. This they readily agreed to do.
Some days afterwards, when Owen again managed to get as far as the hut, he found the man greatly recovered. John Hempson (as he said was his name) professed himself very grateful, and declared his intention of escaping from the pirates on the first opportunity. “I suppose that they will take me to sea the next time they go,” he observed, “and if I then have the chance, I will leave them. They are likely to be back soon, and, indeed, I wonder they have not come in before this.”
“Well, then,” said Owen, “if you ever return to the old country, you must promise to find out Captain Tracy, living near Waterford, and tell him that I am alive, and hope some day to get back. Depend on it, the captain will reward you for your trouble.”
“How will he believe me?” asked Hempson.
“I will write a letter for you to deliver,” said Owen. He, however, recollected that he possessed no writing materials, and he might not again have the opportunity of communicating with Hempson. That moment it occurred to him that he had a small book in his pocket. It contained but a portion of a blank leaf. He tore it out, and with the end of a stick he wrote the letters “O.M.”
“When my friends see this, they will know that you are speaking the truth,” he said, giving the man the paper.
Just then Dan, who had gone on ahead, came hurrying back with the information that a ship was entering the lagoon, and Owen thought it prudent at once to return to the house. Mammy, on hearing this, told her captives that they must not again venture forth, and they, of course, saw the prudence of obeying her.