s yours.' And she asking whether the lad should come ashore, he
answered, 'He is neither yours nor mine; let the spawn of Beelzebub stay
on shore.' After which I, coming on deck again, stumbled over that very
lad, upon the hatchway ladder, who bore so black and despiteful a face,
that I verily believe he had overheard their speech, and so thrust him
upon deck; and going below again, told Mr. Oxenham what I thought, and
said that it were better to put a dagger into him at once, professing to
be ready so to do. For which grievous sin, seeing that it was
committed in my unregenerate days, I hope I have obtained the grace of
forgiveness, as I have that of hearty repentance. But the lady cried
out, 'Though he be none of mine, I have sin enough already on my soul;'
and so laid her hand on Mr. Oxenham's mouth, entreating pitifully. And
Mr. Oxenham answered laughing, when she would let him, 'What care we?
let the young monkey go and howl to the old one;' and so went ashore
with the lady to that house, whence for three days he never came forth,
and would have remained longer, but that the men, finding but few
pearls, and being wearied with the watching and warding so many
Spaniards, and negroes came clamoring to him, and swore that they
would return or leave him there with the lady. So all went on board
the pinnace again, every one in ill humor with the captain, and he with
them.

"Well, sirs, we came back to the mouth of the river, and there began our
troubles; for the negroes, as soon as we were on shore, called on Mr.
Oxenham to fulfil the bargain he had made with them. And now it came out
(what few of us knew till then) that he had agreed with the Cimaroons
that they should have all the prisoners which were taken, save the gold.
And he, though loath, was about to give up the Spaniards to them, near
forty in all, supposing that they intended to use them as slaves: but
as we all stood talking, one of the Spaniards, understanding what was
forward, threw himself on his knees before Mr. Oxenham, and shrieking
like a madman, entreated not to be given up into the hands of 'those
devils,' said he, 'who never take a Spanish prisoner, but they roast him
alive, and then eat his heart among them.' We asked the negroes if this
was possible? To which some answered, What was that to us? But others
said boldly, that it was true enough, and that revenge made the best
sauce, and nothing was so sweet as Spanish blood; and one, pointing
to the