ncealed for a time among the slave habitations on one of the
plantations.

Little Jack, as he was familiarly called, was a type of the old sailor
of those days, so far as his habits and general conduct was concerned.
He was reckless, bold, dissolute, generous, never desponding, ever ready
for a drunken frolic or a fight, to do a good deed, plan a piece of
mischief, or head a revolt. He seemed to find enjoyment in every change
which his strange destiny presented. And this man, who seemed at home in
a ship's forecastle, or when mingling with the lowest dregs of society,
had been educated at Trinity College, Dublin. He was well read in the
classics, and familiar with the writings of the old British poets.
He could quote elaborate passages from the best authors, and converse
fluently and learnedly on almost any subject.

Notwithstanding his cultivated mind and intellectual powers, which
should have placed him in a high position in society, he appeared
satisfied with his condition, and aspired to no loftier sphere than that
of a common sailor. We often meet with anomalies in the human character,
for which it would puzzle the most learned psychologist to account.
What strange and sad event had occurred in the early part of that man's
career, to change the current of his fortune, and make him contented in
a condition so humble, and a slave to habits so degrading? His story,
if faithfully told, might furnish a record of ambitious projects and
sanguine expectations, followed by blighted hopes which palsied all
succeeding exertions, and plunged him into the depths of dissipation and
vice.

Captain Turner and the worthy master of the John, the better to conceal
their iniquities from the lynx-eyed satellites of the law, agreed to
make an exchange of vessels, both having been officially condemned as
unseaworthy. For an equivalent, the schooner was to be laden with a
cargo, principally of molasses, and properly furnished with stores,
provisions, and water, for a passage to the United States by the way
of St. Bartholomew. The crews of the two vessels were then to be
interchanged, and Captain Turner his mate and crew, were to take up
their quarters in the John.

The arrangement was carried into effect; but two of the Dolphin's
crew, dissatisfied with the proceedings on board the brig, and thinking
matters would not be improved by a transfer to the schooner, and being
under no obligation to follow Captain Turner to another vessel, d