“Free and easy, my man,” continued the Captain, as he entered. “Well, I forgive you--we are quits now--and if we were not beyond the Island Craft, I would put you ashore, but I can’t stand back now.” “Why, may I ask?” “Simply, because one of your men-of-war schooners an’t more than hull down astarn of me at this moment; she is working up in shore, and has not chased me as yet; indeed she may save herself the trouble, for ne’er a schooner in your blasted service has any chance with the tidy little Wave.” I was by no means so sure of this. “Well Master Obediah, it may turn up as you say, and in a light wind, I know you will either sail or sweep away from any one of them; but, to be on the square with you, if it comes on to blow, that same hooker, which I take to be his Britannic Majesty’s schooner Gleam, will, from his greater beam, and superior length, out carry and forereach on you, ay, and weather on you too, hand over hand; so this is my compact--if he nails you, you will require a friend at court, and I will stand that friend; if you escape--and I will not interfere either by advice or otherwise, either to get you taken or to get you clear will you promise to put me on board of the first English merchant vessel we fall in with, or, at the longest, to land me at St Jago de Cuba, and I will promise you, on my honour, notwithstanding all that has been said or done, that I will never hereafter inform against you, or in any way get you into trouble if I can help it. Is it done? Will you ive me your hand upon it?” Obed did not hesitate a moment; he clenched my hand, and squeezed it till the blood nearly spouted from my finger-ends; one might conceive of Norwegian bears greeting each other after this fashion, but I trust no Christian will ever, in time coming, subject my digits to a similar species of torture. “Agreed, my boy, I have promised, and you may depend on me; smuggler though I be, and somewhat worse on occasion mayhap, I never breaks my word.” There was an earnestness about the poor fellow, in which I thought there could be no deception, and from that moment we were on what I may call a very friendly footing for a prisoner and his jailer. “Well, now, I believe you, so let us have a glass of grog, and”-- Here the mate sung out, “Captain, come on deck, if you please; quickly, sir, quickly.” By this time it had begun to breeze up again, and as the wind rose, I could see the spirits of the crew fell, as if conscious they had no chance if it freshened. When we went on deck, Paul was still peering through the telescope. “The schooner has tacked, sir.” A dead silence; then giving the glass a swing, and driving the joints into each other, with such vehemence as if he would have broken them in pieces, he exclaimed, “She is after us, so sure as I ben’t a niger.”