When the captain was gone, and I was left standing alone, my thoughts again recurred to the subject of impressment, which had so completely engrossed the minds of the crew that morning; and I thought to myself, "Suppose some crafty, determined, unscrupulous officer of the Ringdove, or some other British vessel, should be at this very time on shore, lounging about the wharves, disguised as an inoffensive citizen, but watching an opportunity to pounce upon a poor unfortunate fellow, like myself, and bear him off in triumph, to become a victim of the cat-o'-nine-tails at the gangway, or food for gunpowder." While I was shuddering at the idea of such a climax to my adventures, I saw a man coming towards me, whose countenance and demeanor aroused all my suspicions. He was a thick-set, swarthy individual, with enormous black whiskers and sparkling black eyes. He was dressed like a gentleman, but I thought his garments hung loosely about him; indeed, his whole appearance, in my eyes, was that of the leader of a press-gang or the captain of a band of pirates. He eyed me closely as he advanced towards me with what I conceived to be a regular man-of-war swagger. Being driven to bay, I stood my ground firmly, and confronted him. "Do you belong to the sloop which is anchored in the bay, my lad?" inquired he, with a mild voice and pleasant smile, affected, of course, to conceal his real intentions. "Yes," was my rather curt reply. "What is the name of the sloop?" "Lapwing." "Where does the Lapwing belong?" "To St. Bartholomew." "Where are you from last?" "St. Bartholomew." "Hum! What is the name of your captain?" "James Lordick." "Ah, James Lordick?" exclaimed he, with vivacity. "Indeed" Then addressing me abruptly, he inquired, "Where do YOU belong?" "Now for it," thought I to myself; "the time has come when I must plunge headforemost into the sea of falsehood; so here goes." And I answered boldly, "To Saba." "To Saba? Do you, indeed?" And he gazed at me with his piercing eyes, as if he could read my very soul. "To Saba. You belong to Saba? What is your name?" "John Lordick." "Is it possible!" exclaimed my black-whiskered friend. "Are you REALLY John Lordick, the brother of James? Good Lord! Who would have thought it!" Thus strongly appealed to, I felt unable to reply except by an affirmative nod. "So you are John Lordick? I heard you were dead. How the world is given to lying! I should never have known you. You have changed amazingly since I left Saba six years ago, John."