CHAPTER XXV.

MY UNCLE'S STORY.

"The waters heave around me; and on high
The winds lift up their voices. I depart
Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by

When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad my eye."

BYRON.

I CANNOT describe the sensations I felt, momentary as they were, while descending from the balustrade of London Bridge; but from the instant I struck the surface of the water, all recollection ceases. A considerable time elapsed before consciousness returned, and when it did, I found myself in the cabin of a Welsh coasting vessel, with a woman, her husband, and their son, (the owners and crew of the little schooner,) chafing my limbs, and using every simple means of resuscitation which their scanty resources could supply. Nothing could exceed the pleasure these true Samaritans evinced, when they perceived that their efforts had proved successful. They had no suspicion that he, the object of their care, had been hounded like a felon to do the desperate deed he had attempted; but, from the occasional remarks I overheard, they set me down as some desponding wretch, who, from very weariness of living, had rashly ventured on that fearful remedy, hateful alike to God and man-self-murder.

When perfectly restored, they made a bed for me before the fire, administered some spirits with caution, left me to my repose, and I sank into a profound sleep, which continued until morning. When I awoke, I found that my kind preservers, overnight, had dried my wet clothes; my breakfast was already prepared-and when I had eaten it, at my request they rowed me ashore in their small skiff, and landed me at Tower Stairs, with three shillings in my pocket, and not a friend upon the earth.

I entered a low tavern-a house of call for seamen-and seate 4 myself in the most obscure corner of the dark and smoky tap-room. Several men were round the fire with pipes, and pewter measures, and to the latter they frequently applied; while others were sleeping on the benches, like men after a debauch. They were evidently sailors, but they had not the free and honest look and bearing which generally distinguishes that careless and warm-hearted class of men. Their dark and weather-beaten faces were those of men habitually drunken, and indicated service in tropic climes-while, from their air and manner, you would pronounce them, at first sight, to be lawless men- -bold and reckless ruffians.

"I say, Bob, wasn't that job last night upon the bridge a funny one ?" said a swarthy fellow to an equally ill-looking companion.

The latter removed his pipe, knocked the ashes out upon the table, replenished it from a seal-skin pouch with fresh tobacco, and then leisurely replied:

"It was, Jim; I have tipped them leg-bail in my time, but the chap last night gave them, what I calls, river security;" and he laughed hoarsely at his own wit.

"Well," observed the first speaker, "I likes a plucky cove; he wouldn't let them have the satisfaction of hanging him; and that jump in the dark robbed them as planted him, of blood-money-ay, and sarved them right, I say."

"You may depend on it, Bob, he was a green 'un. No doubt a first offence; otherwise he would have taken chance of flaws and failures at the Old Bailey; for it was only scragging after all."

"Have they found the body yet, I wonder? I'd like to know whether it was any of our pals, Jim?"

"He's sure to float the ninth day-he won't lie longer at the bottom. They won't go to the trouble of draggin' for him, will they, Bob ?" They'll drag to little purpose,” I muttered from the corner.

66

The fellows turned round and looked at me.

"And what is there about that dead-un's carcass that a creeper should not grip it? Let me see how was the tide ?-it was slack water at the time. I'll bet a dollar he's not lower down than Limehouse."

"I'll wager twice the sum he's not half so far," I answered, with desperate composure.

"And where do ye say he is ?" asked the fellow, with a stare.

"Here!—in this room!-seated on this chair!—and talking to you at this moment!"

"Well!" exclaimed the sailor, "if that ain't a rum confession. I never knew in my born days, a man that passed forged flimsies split upon himself before."

"Nor would I, had I done so I am innocent."

Both ruffians laughed.

"I said the same thing myself once," said the darker fellow of the twain," and I could not out of twelve men, good and true, get a single soul to believe the story.'

66

A couple of the sleepers wakened up. One of them stretched himself, yawned, and inquired, like a person still half asleep, What's all that gammon about innocence, forged notes, and blood-money?"

66

Why, Captain, this here cove is the chap who jumped off the bridge; and as he's innocent, I suppose he'll go quietly to them he bolted from last night, and get hanged to prove it."

"More fool he," observed the man whom they called captain. "Had I taken that plan to convince the world of my honesty, I should have been, ten years ago, dangling among the scare-crows that ornament Dogs' Island. Let's hear your story, youngster; you have told too little, or too much-enough to hang you twice over-so out with the remainder; we're men of honour; though, if we swore it, the world would hardly credit it.”

I had no motive to court concealment; to me, life and death were

equally indifferent. The former portion of my history I kept to myself, but freely narrated the villanous conspiracy of and his agents, to fix a charge of felony upon me first, and bring me to an ignominious end afterwards.

"I never heard of a plant better laid and executed," said the captain, as I finished the detail of my last night's adventures. "Never was man booked safer for the gallows; you had a close escape. Well, 'touch and go' is good pilotage, they say I'll tell you what to do. I sail for the coast of Guinea this evening; we're short-handed; it's a voyage that's not much fancied, and I can't persuade men enough to ship. They give a cowardly preference to low wages, and no fever; but you have no choice between that and hemp, you know. If it's in you, Joe Barton is the man to make a sailor of you-What say ye ?"

"That I embrace your offer cheerfully."

Mr. Barton extended his hand, and, with the hold of a vice, grasped mine. Then pulling from his pea-coat pocket a canvass bag filled with dollars, he counted thirty down, and shoved them across the table.

"There's two months' wages in advance. It's a toss-up that you're dead in half the time. No matter; I will run the chance-go with Bob there he'll take you to a slop-seller, who'll fit you out in no time. He'll not refuse to join in a stoup afterwards. Don't object; it may be the last either of you will take in England. Be on board, drunk or sober, at eight; and now be off, for I have some matters to attend to."

I obeyed the mandate of my new commander, purchased some clothing fitted for the sultry climate I was about to visit, joined the vessel before the appointed hour, sailed at midnight, and bade a long -I prayed an eternal--adieu to England.

We reached the Downs, having cleared the river safely; and there, I might add, that the good fortune of our voyage terminated. Could aught better be expected? No; the errand and the agents were infamous alike. We were bound to Africa to trade in human flesh, although, professedly, we had left England to bring home hard-woods, ivory, and gold-dust. But no honest trading was intended; we went out regularly prepared to perpetrate the worst cruelty that savage man can fancy when he contemplates deeds of crime-prey on the being that wore God's image-violate every bond of nature, and sever the ties which common humanity holds dearest! Speak of the slave-dealer and the highwayman! Pshaw! compare them not.

When I said, that after we lost sight of the shores of England, our fortunes proved indifferent, the statement must be qualified. In the first object of the voyage we were successful, and carried, in comparative safety, a full cargo of slaves to their destination; that is, we managed to land alive two-thirds of the wretches we had kidnapped. We brought eternal misery with us, and left endless wretchedness behind. But already the vengeance of God was upon usfever accompanied our accursed ship; and, one by one, the villaincrew which originally left England died off, and greater villains-were that possible-supplied the places of the departed.