THE SLAVER. 97

and crew appeared smart active fellows; and though
she looked in some respects like a man-of-war, she
certainly was not one. Her hatches were off, and
as far as I could judge there was nothing to show
that she was a slaver.

The officer who had spoken to me finding that
I was a young gentleman, politely invited me down
into the cabin, telling Paul that he might go for-
ward among the men. Paul thanked him, and took
advantage of the permission granted him. The
officers were going to breakfast, and I was very
thankful when they invited me to jointhem. Alto-
gether they treated me very civilly.

I found an opportunity of speaking to Paul
during the day.

‘Bad vessel this,’ he whispered. ‘Dey put you
on shore soon Massa Harry, and so no harm come
to you, but I fear they make me slave, and I no
get back to see my moder. Still I pray God that
He find a way for escape.’

I had too much reason soon afterwards to know
that Paul was right in his conjectures.

The next day we came in sight of a large
vessel. Signals were exchanged, and we hove-to

near each other. The boats were then actively

7

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