The captain and mates were first pinioned; the men were sharing the same
treatment. I was at the time forward, when, on looking aft, who should
I see but Captain Hawk himself walking the deck of the brig as if he
were her rightful commander! He took off his hat with mock courtesy to
poor Captain Searle, as he passed him. "Ah, my dear sir, the fortune of
war makes you my prisoner to-day," he said, in a sneering tone.
"Another day, if my people do not insist on your walking the plank, you
may hope, perhaps, to have the satisfaction of beholding me dangling at
a yardarm. By the bye, I owe you this turn, for you shipped on board
your craft a lad who had engaged to sail with me; and I must have him
forthwith back again, with a few other articles of your cargo which I
happen to require." As he said this, his eye fell on me, and he
beckoned me towards him. I saw that there was no use hanging back, so I
boldly advanced. "You are a pretty fellow, to desert your colours," he
continued, laughing. "You deserve to be treated as a deserter.
However, I will have compassion on your youth, if you will swear to be
faithful to me in future."

"I never joined your vessel, so I am not a deserter. I cannot swear to
serve a man of whose character I know nothing, except that he has taken
forcible possession of a peaceable trader." I said this without
hesitation or the least sign of fear. The truth is, I felt too
desperate to allow myself to consider what I said or did.

"You are a brave young bantam," he answered laughingly. "And though all
the rest may hang or walk the plank, we will save you to afford us
sport; so set your mind at rest on that point."

"Thank you for my life, for I have no wish to lose it, I can assure
you," I replied; "but don't suppose I am going to spend it in your
service. I shall do my best to get away from you as soon as possible."

"Then we must tie you by a lanyard to the leg," he answered, without at
all appearing angry. "Here, Mark Anthony,"--he beckoned to a tall,
ill-looking black who had been busy in securing the rest of the
crew,--"take charge of this youngster, and render an account of him to
me by and by, without a hair of his head injured, mind you."

"Yes, sare," said the Roman general, who I afterwards found was a
runaway slave from Kentucky. "I'll not singe his whiskers even. Come
here, massa;" and seizing me by the shoulder, he dragged me forward away
from the rest of the people. "W