peregrinations for a month around the harbor,
when my kind entertainer invited me to accompany him aboard a vessel
of which, he said, he owned two shares--_she was bound to Africa!_ The
splendid clipper was one of the very craft that had won my heart; and
my feverish soul was completely upset by the gala-scene as we drifted
down the bay, partaking of a famous breakfast, and quaffing bumpers of
Champagne to the schooner's luck. When she passed the Moro Castle we
leaped into our boats, and gave the voyagers three hearty and tipsy
cheers. My grocer was a "slaver!"

I had a thousand questions for the Italian in regard to the trade, now
that I found _he_ belonged to the fraternity. All my inquiries were
gratified in his usually amiable manner; and that night, in my dreams,
I was on board of a coaster chased by John Bull.

My mind was made up. Mexico, Peru, South American independence,
patriotism, and all that, were given to the breezes of the gulf. I
slept off my headache and nightmare; and next morning announced to
Cibo my abandonment of the Costa Firma, and my anxiety to get a
situation in a vessel bound to Africa.

In a few days I was told that my wishes would perhaps be gratified, as
a fast vessel from the Canaries was about to be sold; and if she went
off a bargain, Signor Carlo had resolved to purchase her, with a
friend, to send to Africa.

Accordingly, the Canary "GLOBO" was acquired for $3000; and after a
perfect refitting at the Casa-Blanca of Havana, loomed in the harbor
as a respectable pilot-boat of forty tons. Her name, in consequence of
reputed speed, was changed to "El Areostatico;" a culverine was placed
amidships; all the requisites for a slave cargo were put on board;
fifteen sailors, the refuse of the press-gang and jail-birds, were
shipped; powder, ammunition, and small arms, were abundantly supplied;
and, last of all, four kegs, ballasted with specie, were conveyed into
the cabin to purchase our return cargo.

It was on the 2d of September, 1826, after a charming _dejeuner_, that
I bade farewell to my friend Carlo on the deck of the Areostatico,
cleared for the Cape de Verd isles, but, in truth, bound for the Rio
Pongo. Our crew consisted of twenty-one scamps--Spaniards, Portuguese,
Frenchmen, and mongrels. The Majorcan captain was an odd character to
intrust with such an enterprise, and probably nowhere else, save in
Havana at that period, would he have been allowed to command a slaver.
He was a