Willis, after landing his negroes on the coast, where the agent of the planter who had purchased the cargo was ready to receive them, made for the nearest harbor, for the purpose of overhauling his vessel, and repairing more effectually than he had been able to do at sea, the damage occasioned by the Scorpion’s cannonade. It accidentally happened that he was only a few miles to the eastward of the bay, upon the margin of which Don Velasquez’s country-house was situated; and, standing-in, he came to anchor nearly abreast of the dwelling: it being the only residence visible, Willis determined to go on shore, and endeavor to obtain from the owner, or overseer, some fresh provisions, of which he stood in need. Ordering the launch to follow, and bring off the things he expected to get, he pulled ashore in his gig, and landing on the beach, a few hundred yards from the house, he proceeded to the garden, which, extending nearly to the water’s edge, was beautifully laid out, and full of choice and exquisite flowers; he entered it, and walked up to the piazza without seeing any person. He thought it something unusual not to find any servants lounging about so fine a looking place; but just then observing a large gang of slaves, in a neighboring field, running, jumping, and moving about, as if they were amusing themselves, he expected it was a holyday, and was just going to make a noise that would attract the attention of the inmates, when a succession of sharp, shrill, ear-piercing shrieks rang through the air, evidently uttered by a female in deep distress. Willis, gifted by nature with a heart keenly alive to the sufferings of woman, and judging from the peculiar agony of the tones he had heard, that some foul tragedy was in progress, rushed into the house, and hurrying to the room from which the noise proceeded, discovered lying on the floor, motionless, dead, or in a syncope, an elderly lady, dressed in black; and struggling violently in the grasp of two huge, swarthy, and half naked negroes, armed with machetas, or sugar-knives, a young girl, in robes of white, whom he instantly recognized as Francisca, and whose shrieks he had heard on the piazza. The negroes were so engaged in trying to secure Francisca (for their aim did not seem to be murder) that they had not observed the entrance of Willis. He at one glance understood the scene; drew a pistol from his breast and shot the nearest slave dead; catching his macheta from his hand as he fell, he clove with it the head of the other negro to the chin, and received Francisca fainting into his arms, but was compelled to lay her on the floor, and spring to the door, to repel the entrance of a dozen negroes, with large machetas, who, crowding the passage, were about to occupy the room.