but said not a word. It was clear that
Captain Lordick had betrayed the secret of my citizenship, and had given
him information in regard to his old friends and gossips, which differed
materially from my extemporaneous effusions; so that so far from being
rejoiced, as a reasonable man would have been, at finding his friends
alive and well, he seemed greatly provoked, and eyed me with the
ferocity of a cannibal on learning that they had not shuffled off this
mortal coil in the manner I had so feelingly described.

This gentleman proved to be the captain of a three-masted schooner,
which traded between Cumana and the Islands, bringing over cargoes of
mules. He had resided in Saba in early life and bore the reputation of a
worthy and respectable man. I saw him several times after our memorable
interview; but he always regarded me with a grim look, as if he owed me
a heavy grudge, and would rejoice in an opportunity to pay it off.

Chapter XXVII. CROSSING THE MOUNTAINS

In the afternoon the sloop was hauled into the inner harbor, and on
the following day we commenced discharging cargo. I took an early
opportunity to hold some conversation with Captain Lordick on the
subject of my change of name. The Lesson I had received in my agonizing
interview with Captain Brown made a deep impression on my mind, and
doubtless had an effect in shaping my character in future life.

I expressed my gratitude to Captain Lordick for the interest he took
in my welfare, but frankly told him I could no longer sail under false
colors; that falsehood, in any shape, was alien to my character; that
I was determined to fall back on the name to which I was rightfully
entitled, a very good and quiet name in itself, and acknowledge myself
in all times and places a native citizen of the United States. If I
should be involved in trouble by this straightforward and honest mode of
proceeding, impressed on board a man-of-war, or detained as a prisoner,
in my tribulations I should be able to bear a bold front and enjoy the
glorious consciousness of telling the truth and being no imposter.

The captain stared. Although a worthy and upright man, he could hardly
appreciate the line of conduct I had determined to adopt. He urged
that if I remained in those seas, and avowed myself an American without
evidence of the fact, I should beyond all doubt be impressed, and under
such circumstances I should not only be justified by the strictest code
of morality