Mackey, who had been intently watching every word that fell from the lips of the consul, thought it about time for him to put in his oar, and, speaking out, said he “had been abused at various times, and once had been kicked while at the helm.” The officer who had taken this liberty said that “Mackey was asleep at the helm one night, and he gave him a slight kick, just sufficient to waken him.” The consul replied that he could do nothing about that. Mackey now broke forth with great earnestness: “I thought American consuls were sent to these places to protect and defend American citizens, whether sailors or captains; but you say you can do nothing about it. What are you good for, then? What business have you here? You might much better be at home about your business. Any way, you are good for nothing here but to pamper to every captain’s wishes that will give you a cake of hard bread and a pint of beans.” This speech Mackey delivered with great gusto, making flourishes that would have shamed an orator. The speech, of course, “brought down the house,” and caused a broad grin upon the countenance of all. The consul took it very coolly; the men were sent forward, and he, in company with the captain, left for shore. And here we would remark that in many cases Mackey’s words were true. It is a shameful and lamentable fact, that in many instances American consuls regard seamen as “having no rights that they are bound to respect;” and it is often the case that masters of vessels who have been ill treating their men will, on entering port, present the consul with a small quantity of provisions, or something of that kind, and the result is, that no “foremast hand” from that ship can obtain justice from the consul. We make no comments on this; we simply state the facts, and let our readers make their own. Our crew were now heartily sick and tired of port, and longed to be on the “open sea” again. On Wednesday, March 20th, while all hands were at breakfast, Mackey determined to make one more effort for his liberty. Accordingly, he made his clothes up in a nice little bundle, fastened them on his back, slipped cautiously down the cable, and struck boldly out for the shore. On his crossing the stern of a ship, the captain of which had just come on deck, and espying a man swimming, hailed him: “Where are you going, my man?” “Going ashore; where do you suppose?” shouted Mackey.