The following day my friends prepared a small pirogue to convey me on board the Cultivateur, where, apparently, I should be in greater security than on shore. I was about to embark when one of my preservers handed me a letter which he had just received. It was addressed to me, and bore the signatures of all the captains whose vessels were lying in the harbour, and it informed me that, seeing themselves exposed every moment to an attack by the Indians, they were decided to raise anchor and seek a wider offing; but that two among them, Drouant and Perroux, had been compelled to leave on shore a portion of their possessions, and all their sails and fresh water. They entreated me to lend them my assistance, and had arranged that a skiff should be placed at my command. I communicated this letter to my friends, and declared that I would not return on board without endeavouring to satisfy the wishes of my countrymen; it was a question of saving the lives of the crews of two vessels, and hesitation was impossible. They used every effort to shake my resolution. "If you show yourself in any part of the town," said they, "you are lost; even supposing the Indians were not to kill you, they would not fail to steal every object intrusted to them." I remained immovable, and pointed out to them that it was a question of honour and humanity. "Go alone, then!" exclaimed that Métis who had contributed the most to my escape; "not one of us will follow you; we would not have it said that we assisted in your destruction." I thanked my friends, and, after shaking hands with them, passed on through the streets of Cavite, my pistols in my belt, and my thoughts occupied as to the best means of extricating myself from my perilous position. However, I already knew sufficient of the Indian character to be aware that boldness would conciliate, rather than enrage them. I went towards the same landing-place where once before I had escaped a great danger. The shore was covered with Indians, watching the ships at anchor. As I advanced, all turned their looks upon me; but, as I had foreseen, the countenances of these men, whose feelings had become calmed during the night that had intervened, expressed more astonishment than anger. "Will you earn money?" I cried. "To those who work with me I will give a dollar at the end of the day." A moment's silence followed this proposition; then one of them said: "You do not fear us!" "Judge if I am alarmed," I replied, showing him my pistols; "with these I could take two lives for one--the advantage is on my side." My words had a magical effect, and my questioner replied: