what would become of the
captain himself, and his crew? They would have difficulty enough either
to subsist, or find their way out of such an inhospitable land--for the
skipper well knew that, his fine vessel once gone, his dear friend Dingo
would behave towards him in quite a different manner. Yes, the skipper
was an experienced man, and knew all that, and, knowing it, he lent a
deaf ear to the counsels of the "king."

As soon, therefore, as the report of the Kroomen reached him--for it did
not reach him until some time after his majesty had received it--he at
once formed a resolve as to how he should act, and that resolve was to
embark his cargo as speedily as possible, and, without wasting a moment,
stand out to sea.

This the wary skipper perceived to be his best plan; in fact, the only
one by which he could hope to save his vessel. If the cruiser was
actually coming down the coast--and there could be no doubt but that she
was--his only chance would be to get out before she arrived opposite the
mouth of the river. Should she once come there before he could put to
sea, then the barque would be regularly in the trap, and an armed boat
or two from the cutter would capture her without any difficulty, indeed,
without resistance; for rough, and brutal, and bold, as were the crew of
the slaver, they knew very well that it would be idle to resist the
well-organised attack of a ship of war, or half-a-dozen armed boats,
such as the cutter could set afloat. The capture of the barque would,
therefore, be a thing of course, and the only chance her owner had of
saving her would be to put to sea at once.

The wind was light--it was blowing from the coast--both which
circumstances were greatly in favour of the _Pandora's_ escape. The
contrary wind would be likely to hinder the cruiser from coming near, at
all events it would delay her, and then, should the slaver succeed in
getting out, a light breeze, as already seen, would be altogether in her
favour, and against her antagonist.

Elated by these hopes, but still under terrible anxiety, the captain
lost no time in getting his cargo aboard.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

All the slaver's boats were called into requisition, and the crew--every
man of them--were as busy as bees.

Perhaps Brace and myself were the only ones among them who had no heart
in the work; but, to keep up appearances, we were compelled to labour as
the rest.

The embarkation was easy enough, and the