The shopkeeper corroborated all Captain Searle had told me, and added so many other stories of the character of Captain Hawk and his schooner, that I felt truly glad there was yet time to escape from him. Bad as he might be, there was something in his manner which made me wish not to desert him altogether, without offering him some excuse for my conduct. I accordingly, leaving my bundle in the shop, went back to the quay, where I found him lounging as before. He at first did not know me in my change of dress when I accosted him. "You are a likely lad for a sailor," he remarked, as he ran his eye over me approvingly. "I am glad you think so," I answered; and I then told him I had met the master of a vessel whom I had known in Liverpool, and that I wished to sail with him. "And he has been telling you that I am a slaver, I suppose, or something worse, eh?" he exclaimed in a sneering tone, and with an angry flash of the eye I did not like. I looked conscious, I suppose; for he continued, "And you believed him, and were afraid to sail with so desperate a character, eh? Well, lad, go your own ways, I don't want to lead you. But I know of whom you speak, for I saw him go into the shop where you have been, and tell him _to look out for himself that's all_." Saying this, he turned on his heel, and I went back to the shop. I told Captain Searle what Captain Hawk had said. "That does not matter," he answered. "He cannot do me more harm than he already seeks to do; so I do not fear him." I was now pretty well convinced of the honesty of Captain Searle; but to assure myself still further, I called on two or three ship-brokers, who all assured me that his ship was a regular trader, and gave a favourable report of him. When I inquired about Captain Hawk, they screwed up their mouths, or made some other sign expressive of disapprobation, but were evidently unwilling to say anything about him. In the evening I went on board the _Susannah_; and I must say that I was very glad to find myself once more afloat. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. The _Susannah_ was a fine brig, of about three hundred tons burden. She had a raised poop, but no topgallant forecastle; so the crew were berthed in the fore-peak, in the very nose, as it were, of the vessel. I had engaged to serve as a boy before the mast. Indeed, perfectly unknown as I was, with slight pretensions to a knowledge of seamanship, I could not hope to obtain any other berth. The crew were composed of about equal numbers of Americans--that is, subjects of the United States--and of Englishmen, with two blacks and a mulatto, a Spaniard, and a Portuguese. The first officer, Mr Dobree, was a great dandy, and evidently considered himself much too good for his post; while the second mate, Mr Jones, was a rough-and-ready seaman, thoroughly up to his work.