by his papers for the night. I heard him go into
his study, stop a few minutes, then come out
as usual, composedly lock the door, walk twenty
yards down the corridor, then go back, unlock
the room, look in nervously to see there was no
fire, again relock it, and go down stairs. This
time, to my astonishment, however, he had not
descended three steps before he came back,
towards my room: his hand was on the lock, he
was in. I can see now his grave, formal
face, keeping down all rebellious emotion as
he came through the slant moonbeams, and
stood at my bed. 'Tom,' says he, gravely, 'you
have always been wanting to go to sea. Now
you're going. I left your mother all in tears
packing your things down stairs. You go
tomorrow by the Stroud coach, that will be at the
Burnt Ash Turnpike at ten o'clock. May my
prayers avert the evil that sometimes falls on
disobedient children. Good night, God bless
you!'

"He was gone. I put my head under the
sheet, and blubbered like a young whale that
is cutting his wisdom teeth. I fell asleep
just as the sky was getting grey, awoke
with a shiver two hours after, dressed, and
went down. I gulped down a mouthful or
two of breakfast, and was ready to take my
father's hand to walk to the turnpike a full hour
before there was any occasion. The weather
looked dirty behind me as I left mother and
sisters in tears, and tried to look like a man. I
comforted myself with my new navy jacket, blue
and glossy, and smelling of the wool. Presently,
the Stroud coach came flashing in sight. My
father—'sir' I always called him—pressed my
hand, whispered in my ear, as advice for my
behaviour at Bristol, where I was to join my ship,
'Take care of crimps and ring-droppers,' said he,
as he drew me to him, and gently pushed me off.
Away we went. Sober John, the coachman,
kept up his steady and safe pace of four miles
an hour, to the great derision of some wild
young bloods who passed us, bound for the
covert. My father's foreboding about a disobedient
son made me cry for a night or two, but I
soon forgot it.

"Not anything happened to me at Bristol
worth recording; for I was all day in the counting-
house, making out lists of sugar-casks and
rum puncheons—the cargo of a West Indian
vessel that the merchant, to whom my ship
belonged, had just received from Saint Kitt's,
and which work he kept me at, kindly to
prevent my being taken by a press-gang, or getting
into any other mischief. It was one day that I
was walking round Queen-square—whose deserted
splendour impressed me, and where I got the
sailors, for small treats of grog, to tell me all
the horrors of the late riot: how they had seen
men floating about screaming in the molten
tanks of lead on the top of the porticoes; and
how they had seen dragoons slice off a thief's
head at a single back cut—I was idling along
one of the quays, looking at the ruined and
tumble-down houses, when an old negro woman,
frightfully ugly, and scrunched up in a heap
between two sugar-casks, fixed her eye on me,
and asked for alms: 'Gib hum someting for de
lub of de Lord,' she mumbled, holding out her
black cup of a hand. I looked at her, whistling
and making fun of the old wretch. She was a butt
of the river-side taverns. I asked her if she
could give me change for a five-pound note. I
saw her mouth twitch and her eyes work. I had
heard she was epileptic; and, before I could
speak, she fumbled in the ragged bosom of her
gown, and pulled out what looked like the skull of
a snake, with dry grass wrapped round it. 'Do
you see dat?' she said. 'That is my fetish—
fever fetish; has been in this busum forty year,
ever since I left Brass River. You have been
and broken your fader's heart, and now you
will pay for it, my little piccaninny, burn and
rot you!' I moved on, whistling Up with the
Jolly Roger, and thought no more of it till I
got to Mangrove River. Then I began to remember
what she had said.

"We had a pleasant voyage out. Went first
to Bonny River for oil; then to Old Calabar for
ivory. Everything went well. The captain was
stern, but kind. The first mate made a pet of
me, and turned schoolmaster; keeping me at
quadrant and observation making; so that I got
on to the astonishment of the ship. The first
week out, I had learnt, by name, every rope and
spar in the vessel; and, as for climbing pranks
to the cross-trees, I cared no more for the
masthead than a squirrel for a high bough.
Everything went well. We had made a quick passage
out—fair wind, and good weather. The cash
came in. We sold half our powder, and all our
beads and muskets; and had already stowed
away enough oil and tusks to pay a handsome
profit on the voyage. We had seen nothing of
pirates or slavers, and were as snug and healthy
as if we had been lying in the Bristol Docks or
at Portishead, waiting for a wind. We arrived
at Mangrove River the day before we had
expected, to lay in some hard wood, just to fill up
the hold. I was proud of my ship, and happy
as a king. I bought a red and grey parrot at
Cape Coast, for my sister Kate; and I now
began to think of dear Gloucestershire and
home.

"One or two of us had a sort of feverish
cold, which the captain laughed at, and called
'a seasoning;' and, except rubbing the decks
now and then with dry sand, we laughed at all
the croaking stories of the supercargo about the
African climate. The cook, who had once lived
on the Nun River, said, with a sort of
grumbling regret at his prophecies not coming true,
that even Africa wasn't what it used to be. I
really believe that he would have liked to have
seen just one or two of us with a shot tied to
our heels, to prove he knew more about fever
than we did. The doctor, who was writing a
book on 'sun-stroke,' was unfortunately, while
making an experiment on himself, knocked
down by the sun (who did not like being set at
defiance by even a doctor), grew delirious, and
was obliged to be lashed in his hammock.
This was the only drawback on the universal