t nineteen or twenty years of
age, a strong-built and rather good-looking young man. His countenance,
although intelligent, was not prepossessing; there was a sort of
nameless expression about the eye which repelled confidence and invited
suspicion. But it was no time for me to entertain prejudices which might
be unfounded, or indulge in surmises unfavorable to the character of my
new shipmate. He could talk English, and talk it well. He was the
victim of misfortune, being destitute of friends and money in a strange
country. Finding ourselves accidentally thrown together in the same
ship, it is not remarkable that we became constant companions from the
commencement of our acquaintance, and intimate friends.

Strictland's story was calculated to excite compassion. His father was
a respectable trader in London, and Frederick had been a clerk in his
counting room. He frankly acknowledged he had been a little wild and
extravagant, and having expressed a desire to go abroad, his father
allowed him to proceed to Curacoa on a visit to a brother in that
island. His brother received him coldly and could not or would not find
him employment. He induced him to take passage for Porto Cabello, with
assurances that he would there find some desirable means of getting a
living. Disappointed in this, and having spent the little money given
him by his brother, and sold or pawned the greater part of his clothing,
his next project was to proceed to the United States, and he applied
to Mr. Parker for a passage in the only American vessel in port. He was
told that the ship might not leave the harbor for months, if ever. But
as he was suffering from want, he was permitted to make it his home
until he could find some other resource. I did not allow myself to doubt
the truth of any portion of Strictland's narrative. I confided to him
the particulars of my own situation. We conversed freely in regard to
the future, and formed a resolution to keep together, and embrace the
first opportunity of getting to the United States.

When I had been about a week in Porto Cabello, I was attacked by a
severe and dangerous illness. I suffered severe pains incessantly, which
deprived me of sleep. I was losing my strength daily, and at length,
without any relaxation of the symptoms, was hardly able to crawl about
the ship. I received no sympathy or medical aid from the captain or
mate, and could not even obtain a little rice or gruel, or any other
food than th