reported my presence to LeVere, who had
charge of the deck, but the only result was my being set at polishing
the gun mounted on the forecastle. The mulatto did not come forward,
and I rejoiced at having my status aboard so easily settled, and being
permitted to remain in the same watch with Watkins.

It was a dull gray morning, the gloominess of the overhanging clouds
reflected in the water. Men on lookout were stationed in the fore-top
and on the heads, yet the sharpest eyes could scarcely see beyond a
half mile in any direction. The sea came at us in great ocean swells,
but the stout bark fought a passage through them, shivering with each
blow, yet driven forward on her course by half-reefed sails, standing
hard as boards in the sweep of the steady gale. Two men struggled at
the wheel, and there were times when LeVere paused in his promenade
from rail to rail to give them a helping hand. His anxiety was
evidenced by his hailing the mast-head every few moments, only to
receive each time the same response. The mist failed to lift, but
seemed to shut us in more closely with every hour, the wind growing
continually more boisterous, but LeVere held on grimly. I was kept at
the guns during the entire time of our watch. Besides the Long Tom
forward, a vicious piece, two swivel guns were on each side,
completely concealed by the thick bulwarks, and to be fired through
ports, so ingeniously closed as to be imperceptible a few yards away.
All these pieces of ordnance were kept covered by tarpaulin so that at
a little distance the _Namur of Rotterdam_ appeared like a peaceful
Dutch trader.

There was a brass carronade at the stern in plain view, and so mounted
as to be swung inboard in case of necessity. Its ugly muzzle could
thus rake the deck fore and aft, but the presence of such a piece
would create no suspicion in those days when every ship was armed for
defense, and consequently no effort was made for its concealment. I
was busily at work on this bit of ordnance, when Estada came on deck
for a moment. After staring aloft, and about the horizon into the
impenetrable mist, he joined LeVere at the port rail in a short
earnest conversation. As the two worthies parted the fellow chanced to
observe me. I caught the quick look of recognition in his eyes, but
bent to my work as though indifferent to his presence, yet failed to
escape easily.

"You must be a pretty tough bird, Gates," he said roughly, "or I would
have killed y