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.

I, as I had previously done, kept as much as I could out of their way, and tried to prevent any gleam of satisfaction appearing in my countenance.

The man-of-war was a corvette evidently a powerful and very fast craft, against which the slaver would not have had the shadow of a chance, had even her crew possessed the courage to fight, which I felt very sure, in spite of their bravado, they would not.

The corvette had been bringing the breeze up with her, and now the schooner felt it herself, and began to move more rapidly through the water.  She, too, was a fast vessel, and her crew might justly have entertained hopes of escaping.  I little thought of the cruel device they were contemplating to aid them in so doing.

At length the man-of-war had got almost near enough to reach the slaver with her bow-chasers.  She tried the range of one of them, but the shot fell short.  On this the captain turned, with a savage determination in his eye, and spoke to one of the officers.  Directly afterwards I saw him descend to the slave deck with two or three of the men, and they quickly returned with one of the unfortunate captives.  Instantly the unhappy slave was secured to a plank, and, in spite of his cries and entreaties, hove overboard.  As the poor wretch floated astern I could not help recollecting that the sea swarmed with sharks, and that he would probably be seized before many minutes were over by one of the ravenous monsters.  I guessed the object of the Spaniards; it was confiding in the humanity of my countrymen that they would heave-to in order to pick up the poor black, should he escape the sharks, and thus allow the schooner to gain ground.

The device answered the expectations of its cruel perpetrators.  The corvette hove-to, a boat was lowered, and the slave taken up.  The Spaniards seemed delighted with the result of their experiment, and prepared to try it again.  Another slave was brought up on deck, and, like the former, hove overboard.  Scarcely had he reached the water when a fearful shriek was heard, and the poor wretch and the plank together disappeared below the surface.  This, however, did not prevent the Spaniards from again attempting the plan to impede the progress of their pursuer, and three more slaves were brought up.

Just then I heard several of the crew shouting out “El herético!” and what was my horror to see them dragging Paul aft.  He spoke to them in such Spanish as he could command, but uttered no cry, and when he understood their object, walked calmly among them to the gangway.

I could not restrain myself, but ran up to him and implored my English-speaking friend to plead on his behalf.

“Take care my lad, or you may be treated in the same way,” was the answer.

“Oh, but he has just heard of his mother, who longs to see him, and I have promised to take him to her,” I cried out.  “Oh, ask them if any of them have mothers from whom they have been long parted, would they not desire to see them again?  Will they not have compassion on my poor friend?”

“Don’t grieve for me, Massa Harry,” said Paul, while the sailors were lashing him to the plank.  “God take care of me.  Give my lub to my moder, and tell her I meet her in heaven, and she know me den.”

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.

“As to that I cannot say,” he answered, “undoubtedly some escaped, or the corvette would not have hove-to so often.  But come, the supper is on the table.”

I declared that I had no appetite; but he insisted upon my going into the cabin, and said that he should be offended if I did not.  “It would be better for you also to put an indifferent face on the matter,” he added.

Those of the officers who came to supper were laughing and talking in good spirits, and, as far as I could judge, seemed to be amusing themselves at my expense.  I, however, had the wisdom to follow my friend’s advice, and showed no signs of annoyance.  I confess, too, that the sight of the food quickly restored my appetite.

When supper was over my friend advised me to go back to my cabin.  “We shall be far away from the corvette by to-morrow morning, and then you can come on deck if you like,” he observed.

As I lay in my berth the dreadful scenes I had witnessed came constantly before my sight, and I kept alternately hoping that Paul might have been saved, and fearing that he was lost.  For a long time too it seemed I could not go to sleep.  The vessel also was pitching heavily, the sea dashed against her sides, and I could hear the roaring and whistling of the wind in her rigging; it was evidently blowing very hard.  At last I dropped off to sleep.  I was awakened by a loud crash, and the fearful shrieks and cries which arose from the hold.

No longer heeding my friend’s caution, slipping on my clothes, I rushed on deck.  The schooner’s masts had gone by the board, and she lay helpless on the foaming ocean.  The crew were shouting and swearing as they endeavoured to cut away the masts, which were battering against her sides, while ever and anon a heavy sea striking her, swept over her deck, and from the shrieks which came up out of the waters a short distance away to leeward, I had little doubt that several of the people had been washed overboard.  Fearing that such might be my fate were I to remain on deck, I hurried back again into the cabin.  I knew that nothing could be done till daylight, and that it would be impossible to rig jury-masts until the sea was somewhat smoother.  Perhaps before then the slaver and her living freight might be carried down into the depths of ocean.  I would not venture to lie down, but sat in the cabin, ready to rush out and make an attempt for my life should such a catastrophe appear imminent.

The night seemed very long.  At length I saw daylight through the bull’s-eye overhead, and the movement of the vessel was less violent than before.  I could no longer restrain my curiosity, and made my way on deck.  The crew, much diminished, were sheltering themselves under the bulwarks, while the officers were collected in the after part of the vessel.  I saw that their eyes were directed to windward, I looked in the same direction, and there to my infinite satisfaction I caught sight of the corvette standing towards us.  I was glad to see my English friend among the officers, but the captain and first mate were gone.  They had been carried overboard.  I felt that they deserved their fate, terrible as it was.

The corvette soon came up, and hove-to to windward; a boat was lowered and pulled towards us.  I watched her eagerly.  A lieutenant was steering, and among her crew I observed a black man.  I tried to make out his features, but at that distance it was impossible.  The hope rose in my breast that he might be Paul.

As the schooner still rolled heavily it was no easy matter for the boat to get alongside without the risk of being swamped.  She at length came up under our quarter.  I looked anxiously over the bulwarks, and to my joy saw that the black was indeed Paul.  He caught sight of me.

“All right Massa Harry,” he shouted, “we soon aboard, praise God that you safe.”

“Silence!” said the officer, for Paul had forgotten the discipline of a man-of-war in speaking.  At that moment I thought I recognised the lieutenant’s countenance; yes, I was nearly certain it was my cousin Jack Haultaught, whose yarns, when he was a midshipman, first made me wish to go to sea.  He and his crew soon sprang on to the low deck of the schooner, while the boat, with a couple of hands in her, was veered astern.

I first greeted Paul warmly.  His joy at seeing me was excessive, for he had been afraid that the slavers would have thrown me overboard as they had him, and as I had not been picked up thought my life had been sacrificed.  As my cousin Jack did not know me I had time to talk to Paul.

“Oh Massa Harry we must praise God for all His mercy and goodness to us, what we think going to be very bad for us He make turn out for the best.  The captain of the corvette, my old friend, he good Christian man, he say he take me to England with him, and then I see my dear moder, and learn more of the Bible, and then come back and preach the gospel to my poor countrymen.”

The hatches, which had hitherto been kept battened down, were now taken off.  The five hundred human beings crowded below were evidence of the character of the vessel, and enabled the lieutenant at once to claim her as a prize to Her Majesty’s ship “Triton.”

I do not wish to dwell on the fearful sight which met our eyes as we looked down below on the mass of humanity jammed, pressed, and huddled together.  And oh, the horrible odour which arose from that foul hold!  It seemed impossible that human beings could have existed a minute in it, much less the many hours during which those unhappy people had been shut up during the gale.  How fearful would have been their sufferings had they been compelled thus to make the passage across the Atlantic.  How enormous a proportion of them would have died.  As it was, many of them had their limbs broken, and many were sadly crushed and bruised.

At length I went up to the lieutenant and put out my hand.  “You don’t know me, cousin Jack,” I said.

“What, Harry!” he exclaimed, looking at me hard.  “I am delighted to see you my boy.  The negro sailor told me that there was a young Englishman on board, but I did not expect to find you.  You will be welcome on board the `Triton,’ and if you have a fancy for continuing at sea, I think the captain will be able to enter you as a supernumerary, and get you regularly appointed when we return to England.”

I told him that above all things it was what I should like.

I now accompanied him to the “Triton,” carrying with us the surviving officers of the slaver.  They were treated with scant ceremony, but without any undue harshness, on board, and berthed together in a cabin run up on the lower deck.  I was, however, able to speak a good word for the officer who had treated me kindly, and been the means of saving my life, and I was pleased to hear the captain thank him, and afterwards the officers, to show their sense of his conduct, invited him to mess with them.  He declined doing so, however.  He afterwards told my cousin Jack that in consequence of the scenes he had witnessed he had resolved to have nothing more to do with the slave trade.

“It was a great temptation,” he said.  “I expected to make my fortune in a short time, and that induced me to engage in the accursed traffic.”

The corvette now took the schooner in tow.  As soon as the sea was calm enough hands were sent on board her to rig jury-masts, and a course was steered for Sierra Leone.  The slaver, as may be supposed, was condemned, the slaves liberated, and the whole of them settled in the colony.  Paul entered on board the “Triton,” and I was placed as a midshipman on her quarter-deck.

We cruised for a short time longer on the coast, and captured another slaver, and then, as the corvette had been her due time on the station, she was ordered home.

Jack, from having been at sea, had not heard of the misfortunes of my family.

As soon as the ship was paid off he insisted on accompanying me and Paul back to Liverpool.  We reached the house where I had left my sisters under Mammy’s care.  Flowers bloomed before the windows, and there was an air of neatness and comfort about the little abode which looked very pleasing.

I begged Jack and Paul to remain outside while I went in to prepare the inmates for their arrival.  Mammy opened the door.  She seized me in her arms the moment she saw me, and I did not at all mind the kisses she bestowed on my cheeks, though her lips were thick and her black face shrivelled.

“Your sisters up stairs, Massa Harry.  They so glad you come back,” she exclaimed, and dragged me along.  She opened the door where they were seated at work.

“I have brought some strangers to see you,” I said, after our greetings were over.  “You remember our cousin Jack Haultaught; he insisted on coming, he is a first-rate capital fellow, and a true friend of mine.”

“We shall be very glad to see him and to thank him,” said Mary and Jane together.

“And I shall be delighted,” cried Emily.  “I recalled his giving me all sorts of curious things when he came back from his first voyage.  I’ll run down and ask him in.”

“Mammy,” I said, feeling very doubtful how I could best prepare her for meeting her son.  “You remember the commission you gave me, I did my best to execute it.  I asked all the people I met if they knew Cheebo.”

“Ah, you no hear of him,” said Mammy, with a sigh.

“I did not say that,” I answered.  “Mammy, you believe that God hears your prayers.”

“Yes, Massa Harry, I am sure He does,” she said, and then it seemed to flash across her that I had something of interest to communicate about her son.

“You hear of Cheebo, he become Christian, oh say dat, Massa Harry, say dat.”

“Yes, Mammy,” I answered, taking her hand, “I not only heard of him, but I have seen him; and, Mammy, do you think the joy would not be too much for you if I were to tell you that I hope you will see him too?”

“Oh, he is come! he is come!” exclaimed Mammy.

I made a sign to my sisters to remain with our old nurse, whispering to Mary that I was going to bring up her long lost son.  I hurried down stairs, and found that Emily had already invited Jack and his companion into the house.  I led Paul to the door, and my sisters slipping out; we left the old woman and her son together.

And now it is time that I should bring my yarn to a conclusion.  Jack seemed to find Liverpool a very delightful place; and perhaps it may account for his so doing, when I say that before he went away he asked my sister Mary to marry him.  She did not refuse.  Soon afterwards he got his promotion, which he well deserved for his activity and zeal during his long service on the African coast.

Through the interest of the captain of the “Triton” I got appointed to a man-of-war brig on that station, where, being pretty well up to the tricks of the slavers, I was instrumental in capturing a number of vessels, and assisting to put down the abominable slave trade.  As a good deal of prize money came into my pocket, I had the gratification of sending home considerable sums to my sisters.  Mammy’s joy, when she found that not only had her son become a Christian, but that her husband had accepted the truth, was full.  She willingly parted with Paul when she heard of his wish to become a missionary of the gospel.  He returned to Sierra Leone, and after remaining a short time there, went on to Abeokuta, to labour with others in spreading the glad tidings of salvation among the dark-skinned sons of Africa.