loss of my vessel; the idea of being tricked out of her by a set of garlic-eating ragamuffins puts me out of all patience. I have as good a pair of pistols as were ever manufactured, which I concealed when the schooner was searched. With these, and a good cutlass in my hand, I would face a dozen of these cowardly Spaniards at any time. If you will stand by me we will drive every mother's son of them overboard!"

I saw that Moncrieff was so drunk he could hardly stand. Indeed, it was only at such times his courage was roused to fighting heat. I attempted to calm his excitement by representing the slender chance of success we should have in open combat with eight or ten men completely armed; that it was far more likely we should be thrown overboard than the prize crew. I also argued that even if we should be successful in the desperate contest we should gain nothing, but on the contrary lose the opportunity of proceeding to Porto Cabello where the ship Charity was now lying; that in every point of view his design was objectionable, as well as impracticable; and furthermore, the attempt would be an ungrateful return for the civilities and indulgence we had received from the prize-master and his associates.

My remonstrances only served to increase the fury of Moncrieff, who swore that single-handed he would retake the schooner. With his back against the mainmast and a good claymore in his hand, he would cut down every man one after another!

I found he was too far gone to listen to reason; and it is possible he might have staggered on deck, pistol in hand, and been shot down for his pains, if the prize-master, attracted by his loud and threatening language, had not listened to a part of the conversation; and as the captain was on the point of sallying forth, like a doughty champion of old, in search of hard knocks, his collar was grasped by a couple of stout men; and he was roughly laid on his

back and handcuffed in a trice. His pistols were found and appropriated to the use of the prize-master as spoils of the vanquished, and he would have been treated with great harshness had I not interfered and pointed out the brandy bottle as the guilty originator of the plot. The brandy was promptly secured, to be punished hereafter. The captain was relieved of his manacles and shoved into his berth, where he slept off his valorous propensities, and awoke a few hours afterwards a different man, who could hardly be drubbed into a plot which would endanger his own life.

In spite of calms, and light winds, and Patriot cruisers, we reached Porto Cabello on the fifth day after leaving the little harbor where we were so handsomely entrapped. The felucca entered the port at the same time, and Mr. Campbell was permitted to join us once more; and he did it with an alacrity which, I confess to my shame, furnished me with no little amusement. The sufferings of the poor man while in the felucca can hardly be imagined. He was exposed in that hot climate, and during the prevalence of calms, to the fiercest rays of the sun, while loaded with clothes enough to keep him uncomfortably warm during a polar winter. And he felt compelled to bear his burden without murmuring or seeking to be relieved, lest his companions should suspect his reasons for bearing his whole wardrobe on his back, and take umbrage at such a reflection on their honor!

THE ship Charity was lying in the harbor of Porto Cabello, but under seizure of the Spanish government. Captain Moncrieff, Mr. Campbell, and myself, with no longer a home in the pilot-boat, transferred our quarters to the ship. The officers took up their abode in the cabin, while I was thrown on the hospitalities of the forecastle. The prize-master of the pilot-boat honored me with a pressing invitation to join the crew of the felucca, assuring me there was "good picking" along the coast, and he would put me in the way of doing well. I felt flattered by his good opinion; but under the circumstances thought proper to decline the invitation.

The ship Charity was a vessel of about three hundred and fifty tons burden, moored at this time in the centre of the harbor, awaiting the decision of the Admiralty Court. The ship was commanded by a man of very ordinary capacity. The mate was a mere sailor, wanting in intelligence and worth, and a fit associate for the captain. The ship and her valuable cargo were actually in charge of the supercargo, a Mr. Parker, of New York, who was also part owner. He resided on shore and seldom visited the ship. It was at his instance I found an asylum in the Charity along with the officers of the pilot-boat.

The crew of the Charity consisted of some eight or ten men, Dutchmen, Swedes, and Italians, as brutal and ignorant a set of men as it was ever my misfortune to fall in with. With such officers and such a crew, it may be imagined there was little discipline on board. Liquor could be easily obtained; and drunken rows and fighting among themselves, and occasionally with the captain or

mate, were of frequent occurrence. None of the crew gave me a welcome when I went on board, and I saw at once there could be no good fellowship between us. I found a space in the forecastle for my chest, and in that warm climate it mattered little where I slept. I performed my duties regularly with the crew, and for the first two days led an unsocial, almost a solitary life, in the midst of a large ship's company. Captain Moncrieff, like an honest man, paid me the month's pay to which I was entitled, in advance. This money. I kept about my person, and carefully concealed from every one the prosperous state of my finances. I was thus enabled to indulge in little comforts which, to some extent, counterbalanced the inconveniences to which I was subjected.

On the morning of the third day after I had taken up my quarters in the ship, another person was received on board in accordance with a mandate from the supercargo. His name was Frederick Strictland. He was an Englishman, a veritable cockney, about nineteen or twenty years of age, a strong-built and rather good-looking young man. His countenance, although intelligent, was not prepossessing; there was a sort of nameless expression about the eye which repelled confidence and invited suspicion. But it was no time for me to entertain prejudices which might be unfounded, or indulge in surmises unfavorable to the character of my new shipmate. He could talk English, and talk it well. He was the victim of misfortune, being destitute of friends and money in a strange country. Finding ourselves accidentally thrown together in the same ship, it is not remarkable that we became constant companions from the commencement of our acquaintance, and intimate friends.

Strictland's story was calculated to excite compassion. His father was a respectable trader in London, and Frederick had been a clerk in his counting room. He frankly acknowledged he had been a little wild and extravagant,

and having expressed a desire to go abroad, his father allowed him to proceed to Curaçoa on a visit to a brother in that island. His brother received him coldly and could not or would not find him employment. He induced him to take passage for Porto Cabello, with assurances that he would there find some desirable means of getting a living. Disappointed in this, and having spent the little money given him by his brother, and sold or pawned the greater part of his clothing, his next project was to proceed to the United States, and he applied to Mr. Parker for a passage in the only American vessel in port. He was told that the ship might not leave the harbor for months, if ever. But as he was suffering from want, he was permitted to make it his home until he could find some other resource. I did not allow myself to doubt the truth of any portion of Strictland's narrative. I confided to him the particulars of my own situation. We conversed freely in regard to the future, and formed a resolution to keep together, and embrace the first opportunity of getting to the United States.

When I had been about a week in Porto Cabello, I was attacked by a severe and dangerous illness. I suffered severe pains incessantly, which deprived me of sleep. I was losing my strength daily, and at length, without any relaxation of the symptoms, was hardly able to crawl about the ship. I received no sympathy or medical aid from the captain or mate, and could not even obtain a little rice or gruel, or any other food than the coarse viands that were served out to the ship's company.

Strictland was with me whenever he could be spared from his regular duties, and gave me encouragement and aid. But I could not conceal from myself that my illness was becoming a serious matter. I accidentally heard two or three of the crew conversing about my sickness one day, and, to my great consternation, they came to the conclusion that I was rapidly sinking, and they would soon be rid of my company.