Captain Winterfield's voyage, however, was
far from being at an end. Near Oporto the
Susanna was chased by three Algerine pirates,
boarded, and after a short conflict, in which " we
had six slain and many wounded," taken.

This was a melancholy reverse, for they were
now slaves; but Winterfield, like a brave man,
consoled himself with the reflection that even
slavery was a relief to their former distresses.
For many weeks they were close prisoners at
sea. They found a number of Englishmen in
the Algerine ships, and from them they learned
a smattering of the common language.

At length they arrived at Algiers, and next
market day were exposed for public sale.
Winterfield was sold to a Tangarene. The first
adventure that he met with after he was
brought to his patron's house, nearly cost
him his life. His patron's father, " being
desirous to see his son's pennyworth," commanded
him up into the gallery which overlooked the
court-yard, and there began to insult him, on the
ground of his being a Christian, In reply, he
signified, as well as he could, that " their
prophet was but a cobbler." His meaning was
that Mahomet "had packed up a cento of
Jewish and monkish fopperies," which
composed their religion. Upon this, the old
gentleman, without the preamble of railing words,
fell upon him. "Whatever rage or fury his
hands or feet could execute, that I felt; and my
entreaties did but enrage his choler; so that I
saw that I could sooner blow out the fire with
a pair of bellows, than lenify his passion with
prayers." He only escaped by clapping his
hands on the rail of the gallery, and offering to
leap into the court; further punishment was
then delayed until his patron's return, when the
reputed blasphemy was carried full cry to his
cars. His patron instantly drew a long knife,
and made at him without a word; he was only
prevented by the interposition of his wife from
putting an end to his slave at once.

His chief employment under this first patron
was to attend upon the carpenters and smiths,
who were employed in fitting up a man-of-war
of more than twelve guns for a piratical expedition.
When this ship was ready, his patron told
him he must go in her, in spite of his representations
that he was no sailor. He gave him
some money, bought him clothes, and gave him
provisions "besides the ship's allowance. The
expedition was absent nine weeks, and only
effected one insignificant capture. His patron
was very much the loser by this ill success,
and next had recourse to an expedient which
seems to have been commonly used in
Algiers. He arranged that his slave should pay
him two dollars a month, and live where he
would, and get the money as he could. It was
hard " to raise increase out of no stock, and to
pay interest out of no principal;" but there was
no contending, so Winterfield addressed himself
to an English slave, who seems to have been
circumstanced in the same way, and whom he
discovered sitting in a little shop, where,
however, nothing was to be seen but bare walls.
His fellow-countryman invited him to share the business.

"To what end," asked Winterfield, "since
there is nothing to sell?"

"Countryman," replied the other, "I drive
an unknown trade; here, I sell lead, iron, strong
waters, tobacco, and many other things."

The offer was accepted, and the firm prospered
so much that it ventured upon a whole butt of
wine. The profits of this were so great as to
upset the steadiness of Winterfield's partner,
who grew a good fellow and a bad trader, and
"went tippling up and down, leaving the
concerns of the shop wholly upon me." A fresh
partner was eventually taken in, one John
Randall who had been taken in the Susanna.
This poor fellow was worse off than Winterfield,
for he not only had to provide his patron with
two dollars a month "out of no principal," but
to maintain his wife and child. He was a glover
by trade, and proved a sober and honest partner.
The business went on very well until one
unlucky day, when the partners were detected in
walking a little further from the town than was
allowed for slaves, and examining the coast with
too curious an eye. One of the spies, who were
always on guard, ran up, and charged them
with an attempt to escape. This they stoutly
denied, and were carried before the viceroy and
his council. On their way thither, Winterfield
managed to convey his purse into the hands of
an Englishman whom they met; and it was well
that he did so, for before they reached the
council-chamber the spies who had seized them
conducted them into " a blind house," searched
them, and took from John Randall all the money
he possessed. Before the council they again
denied all, and the batoon was commanded to
be brought forth. They replied that they could
not accuse themselves falsely, but must abide
the pleasure of the council, " and so sat
themselves down by the sticks." The council
referred the decision of the case to their
respective patrons, and the end of the matter was that
John Randall received three hundred blows
upon the soles of his feet, while Winterfield,
though he escaped the batoon, was ordered to
leave his shop, and work in the looms with two
other English slaves who were weavers. Here
he had continued for about a month, when his
patron, whose affairs had long been sinking, was
compelled to sell all his slaves to pay his debts.
Winterfield fell to the lot of "a grave old
gentleman, in whom he found not only pity and
compassion but love and friendship." This n
ew patron had a small farm in the country
about twelve miles inland, and thither he took
Winterfield with him. He carried him to the
markets, and taught him how to trade there,
and on his return loaded him with provisions,
that he might make merry with his fellow-Christians.
He evidently entertained the idea of
making him overseer of the farm, but the
thought of liberty had not deserted Winterfield,
and he dreaded being compelled to reside
so far from the coast. He therefore persuaded
his patron to allow him to return to his old shop