slightest
opportunity of carrying it out. I was not permitted, therefore, to set
my foot in any of the boats that were constantly going and coming
between the ship and the shore.

There was one other of the _Pandora's_ crew who was dealt with in a
similar manner, and this was poor "Dutchy", as the sailors called him.
They might well suspect him of a design to run away. Bad as was the
treatment I received, it was humane and civil when compared with the
almost continuous cruelty practised upon the Dutchman; and instinct
itself should have prompted him to flee from it at the very first
opportunity that offered.

Unfortunately, instinct had this very effect; or rather, I might say,
human flesh and blood could stand it no longer; and Dutchy determined to
desert. I say unfortunately, for the attempt proved a failure, and had
an awful termination. It ended in the death of this poor sailor--a
death that was hideous and appalling.

I shall relate the incident in a few words:--

A few days after coming to anchor Dutchy had communicated to me his
intention of deserting from the ship. He had made me his confidant, in
hopes that I might join him in the enterprise--for the poor fellow knew
there was not another on board who had ever spoken to him a word of
sympathy. This I had done, and, consequently, had won his regard. He
knew, moreover, that I, too was a persecuted victim; and, therefore,
believed I might be as willing as himself to get away beyond the reach
of the common tyrant. It is true I was so, but the advice of my patron
Brace had rendered me content to wait for a better opportunity--to wait
for our arrival upon the other side of the Atlantic. I had made up my
mind to endure till then; knowing that a voyage from the west coast of
Africa to the Brazils, the destination of the _Pandora_, would be but a
few weeks in duration, and confident, from what Brace had promised me,
that there I should part from the hated crew.

For these reasons I refused to accede to Dutchy's proposal, and
endeavoured to dissuade him from his design; advising him also to wait
for our arrival on the other side.

My counsels proved vain. Flesh and blood could stand it no longer. The
poor fellow had been persecuted to the utmost limit of endurance, until
he could endure no more; and, under the impulse of despair, he made his
fatal attempt.

One night, when nearly all on board were asleep, a plunge was heard
close by the side of the ve