a native of Gottenberg, returned directly to
his home. He had parents in that city of respectable standing, besides
brothers and sisters. He told his relatives an ingenious tale to
account for his prosperous condition, but he was speedily tracked by
the officers of justice, and one day while enjoying himself with his
friends, and lavishly spending his money, he was arrested for the
dreadful crimes of piracy and murder, and thrown into a dungeon,
where he remained heavily ironed for nearly twelve months, when he was
transferred to the brig Joseph for conveyance to the United States.

Chapter XXXVII. RETURN OF THE WANDERER

We sailed from Gottenburg one morning about the first of September,
1817, bound to Boston. Having been long absent from my home without
intercourse of any description with my friends and relations, and having
seen during that period striking exemplifications of the caprices of
fortune, having experienced "many ups and downs," the downs, however,
being decidedly in the majority, I felt a strong desire, a yearning,
to return once more to my friends in New England. I was convinced there
were worse places in the world than my own dear native land, and far
worse people than those among whom my lot had been cast in childhood.

It was on a Saturday we sailed from Gottenburg. It had been Captain
Allen's intention to sail on the previous Thursday, but he was
unexpectedly detained. On Friday morning all the arrangements were
completed; the brig was ready for sea, the wind was fresh and fair,
but not a step was taken towards getting under weigh. Indeed our worthy
captain plumply told Mr. Bowen that NO CONSIDERATION COULD INDUCE HIM TO
GO TO SEA ON A FRIDAY! The crew, one and all, as well as the mate,
were amused at this exhibition of weakness, which did not increase
the respect for his character; for ALL sailors are not superstitious,
although they are proverbially regarded as such.

Petersen, the prisoner, who was brought on board in irons, bore no
resemblance in personal appearance to the ferocious, ill-looking,
big-whiskered ruffian, whose image is conjured up by the mention of
the word "pirate." On the contrary he was a gentle-looking youth,
only nineteen years of age, of a slight figure, pale complexion, and a
pleasant, prepossessing countenance. He spoke English fluently, and by
his conduct, intelligence, and plausible representations, soon won the
favor of every man on board. He declared that he