We drank on, and drank the punch out, and more was brought up, and he pushed it about apace; and then came up a leg of mutton, and I need not say that we ate heartily, being told several times that we should pay nothing. After supper was done he bids my landlady ask if the boat was come. And she brought word no; it was not high water by a good deal. “No!” says he. “Well, then, give us some more punch.” So more punch was brought in, and, as was afterwards confessed, something was put into it, or more brandy than ordinary, and by that time the punch was drunk out we were all very drunk; and as for me, I was asleep. About the time that was out we were told the boat was come; so we tumbled out, almost over one another, into the boat, and away we went, and our captain in the boat. Most of us, if not all, fell asleep, till after some time, though how much or how far going we knew not, the boat stopped, and we were waked and told we were at the ship’s side, which was true; and with much help and holding us, for fear we should fall overboard, we were all gotten into the ship. All I remember of it was this, that as soon as we were on board our captain, as we called him, called out thus: “Here, boatswain, take care of these gentlemen, and give them good cabins, and let them turn in and go to sleep, for they are very weary;” and so indeed we were, and very drunk too, being the first time I had ever drank punch in my life. Well, care was taken of us according to order, and we were put into very good cabins, where we were sure to go immediately to sleep. In the meantime the ship, which was indeed just ready to go, and only on notice given had come to an anchor for us at Shields, weighed, stood over the bar, and went off to sea; and when we waked, and began to peep abroad, which was not till near noon the next day, we found ourselves a great way at sea; the land in sight, indeed, but at a great distance, and all going merrily on for London, as we understood it. We were very well used and well satisfied with our condition for about three days, when we began to inquire whether we were not almost come, and how much longer it would be before we should come into the river. “What river?” says one of the men. “Why, the Thames,” says my Captain Jacque. “The Thames!” says the seaman. “What do you mean by that? What, han’t you had time enough to be sober yet?” So Captain Jacque said no more, but looked about him like a fool; when, a while after, some other of us asked the like question, and the seaman, who knew nothing of the cheat, began to smell a trick, and turning to the other Englishman that came with us, “Pray,” says he, “where do you fancy you are going, that you ask so often about it?” “Why, to London,” says he. “Where should we be going? We agreed with the captain to carry us to London.” “Not with the captain,” says he, “I dare say. Poor men! you are all cheated; and I thought so when I saw you come aboard with that kidnapping rogue Gilliman.