"On board of a man-of-war?" replied Spicer; "you'd soon be sick enough of that. Why, who would be at the beck and nod of others, ordered here, called there, by boy midshipmen; bullied by lieutenants, flogged by captains; have all the work and little of the pay, all the fighting and less of the prize-money; and, after having worn out your life in hard service, be sent here as a great favor, to wear a cocked hat and get a shilling a week for your 'baccy? Pshaw, boy! that's not life." "Then, what is life?' inquired I. "What is life? Why, to sail in a clipper with a jolly crew and a roving commission; take your prizes, share and share alike, of gold-dust and doubloons." "But what sort of vessel must that be, Spicer?" "What sort? why--a letter of marque--a privateer--a cruise on the Spanish Main--that's life. Many's the jolly day I've seen in those latitudes, where men-of-war do not bring vessels to and press the best men out of them. There the sun's warm, and the sky and the sea are deep blue, and the corals grow like forests underneath, and there are sandy coves and cool caves for retreat--and where you may hide your gold till you want it--ay, and your sweethearts too, if you have any." "I thought privateers always sent their prizes into port, to be condemned?" "Yes, in the Channel and these seas they do, but not down there--it's too far off. We condemn the vessels ourselves, and share the money on the capstan-head." "But is that lawful?" "Lawful! to be sure it is. Could we spare men to send prizes home to England, and put them into the hands of a rascally agent, who would rob us of three-fourths at least? No, no; that would never do. If I could have escaped from the man-of-war which picked up me and four others who were adrift in an open boat, I would now have been on the Coast. But when I lost my fin, I knew that all was over with me, so I came to the hospital; but I often think of old times, and the life of a rover. Now, if you have any thoughts of going to sea, look out for some vessel bound to the Gold Coast, and then you'll soon get in the right way." "The Gold Coast! Is not that to where the slavers go?" "Yes, slavers and other vessels besides. Some traffic for ivory and gold-dust; however, that's as may happen. You'd soon find yourself in good company, and wouldn't that be better than begging here for halfpence? I would be above _that_, at all events." This remark, the first of the kind ever made to me, stung me to the quick. Strange, I had never before considered myself in the light of a beggar; and yet, was I not so, just as much as a sweeper of a crossing?" "A beggar?" replied I.