believe that I was one of the crew of a regular
slaver.

"'But," I remarked, "the brig's not half
discharged."

"Don't you believe it," said he. "There
ain't much in her now, I guess, besides water
for the passage. Your old man's made rather
a good thing, I reckon; for they've let him
take the lot up there a bargain. You see
they're getting short of grub. They've been
on short allowance this last week, and there
ain't above another day or two's left, so
they're glad to take a little less than usual
for 'em. But prices ain't bad nohow. The
cruisers keep the trade brisk enough. The
more the merrier—though they starve a few
occasionally."

As I walked towards the place I had been
ordered to call for the letter, I turned over in
my mind what was best to be done. That I
would not go in the "Lucy Anne" and be a
witness, if not compelled to be an actor in
cruelties perhaps almost as bad as those I
had witnessed, I was determined, come what
might. My duty I felt to be to expose her
real character to a man-of-war. But how was
I to get away, and what chance was there of
falling in in time—should I escape clear—with
her or her boats? These things presented
themselves in a very unsatisfactory light, as I
revolved them in my mind; so at last I came
to the determination of taking a straight-
forward course, and telling the "old man" I
didn't wish to join him, and request my
discharge at once. With this idea I hurried
into the factory to tell the "old man" my
mind. To my disappointent he had gone on
board, leaving orders for me to follow, which
I did, regretting all the way that I had not
seen him when I felt worked up into good
trim for a row with him, had such a thing
occurred. The moment I got on board I
rushed off to Jack Ayres, and detailed all
that occurred, second thoughts having
suggested taking his advice.

"Well, what are you going to do?" said
Jack.

"Ask for my discharge."

"Absurd! If you go ashore here, you'll
be murdered in no time. But, if you will
bolt, wait till they begin to ship, and then
pop off in a Kabenda boat, or a canoes, to the
man-o'-war. But I don't see why you're so
'nation squeamish about the niggers. A couple
of hundred dollars or so, don't often come
amiss."

"Oh, Jack, if you 'd only seen what I have
seen"—

"Well, 'vast a bit. Let's hear what the
'old man' has to say," said Jack, for the
skipper had just emerged from below, and
sung out to the mate to send everybody
aft.

"Now my men," said he, when we had all
mustered round him. " I'm a going to ship
a cargo of slaves at sunset; if you like to
share, you'll have two hundred dollars
apiece—if you don't, you may go ashore, or
to blazes, if you like"—

None of the crew answered: they were
regularly taken aback at this unexpected
announcement.

"I'll give you an hour to consider, all of
you. But look out! if there's any double
shuffling with me, or any one goes near those
signal halliards, and attempts to lower that
flag, I'll shoot him."

The men stood silent, and looked in each
other's faces, as if to read what course each
should adopt; still no one spoke.

"There—that'll do now; go for'ard and
make your minds up."

"I, for one, Captain Curson, will never—"

"Hush! Hush!"—cried Jack, seizing me
by the arm, and hawling me along with the
rest.

"Go for'ard, Sir," added the skipper, turning
away; and the next minute we were all in
the fok'stle discussing the matter. The
whole of the crew decided in favour of the
"old man's" offer.

"I tell you, Jack, I'll have nothing to do
with it," was my answer to Jack's entreaties
"not to be a fool." "Well, if you won't, you
won't," he continued; "at all events, you
needn't say so, but wait till it's dark and get
away; for if you go ashore to-day you'll be
as dead to-morrow as a dried herring."

"But do come with me, Jack."

"Why you see, old fellow, I'm poor, and
can't afford to throw away a couple of
hundred dollars for the chance of more kicks
than halfpence, in a man-o'-war."

"So be it, then. Every man for himself."

The Captain was told the crew were all
willing to accept his offer—much to his
satisfaction; and, much to mine, I saw, in the
afternoon, the man-o'-war steamer standing
in for the land, some distance to the northward,
so I took an opportunity of making up
in a bundle a selection of best things from my
sailor's kit.

The last boat load of the cargo from the
States had been despatched, and the "Lucy
Anne's" hold now showed a tier of large
water-casks, ready filled, which had hitherto
been hidden by the cargo. A portion of the
hold was stowed too with farina, jerked beef,
and rice; and, when a few planks were laid
upon the casks and covered with matting, and
the large coppers for cooking placed, she was
as regularly fitted a slaver below as ever was
seen upon the coast; while on deck, her
hatches on, and her colours flying, she defied
any cruizer's scrutiny, even were one
signalled to, unless at the risk of infringing the
boasted impunity from search of the flag she
wore.

Directly it was dark, the work commenced
in earnest; crowds of boats of all kinds—
launches, canoes, Kabenda-boats—all loaded
to the water's edge with their living cargo,
crowded alongside. Hundreds of the
unfortunate beings, some of whom were still