never I had a moment of leisure; and, verily, the prospect
was an appalling one. It might be long months before I should have the
slightest chance of escaping from that horrid ship,--months! ay, it
might be years! It was no longer any articles of indenture that I
dreaded, for I now perceived that this had been all a sham, since I
could not be legally bound to a service not lawful in itself. No, it
was not anything of this sort I had to fear. My apprehensions were
simply that for months--perhaps years--I might never find an opportunity
of escaping from the control of the fiends into whose hands I had so
unwittingly trusted myself.

Where was I to make my escape? The _Pandora_ was going to the coast of
Africa for slaves; I could not run away while there. There were no
authorities to whom I could appeal, or who could hold me against the
claims of the captain. Those with whom we should be in communication
would be either the native kings, or the vile slave-factors,--both of
whom would only deliver me up again, and glory in doing so to gratify my
tyrant. Should I run off and seek shelter in the woods? There I must
either perish from hunger, thirst, or be torn to pieces by beasts of
prey--which are numerous on the slave-trading coasts. One or other of
these would be my fate, or else I should be captured by the savage
natives, perhaps murdered by them,--or worse, kept in horrid bondage for
life, the slave of some brutal negro,--oh! it was a dread prospect!

Then in my thoughts I crossed the Atlantic, and considered the change of
escape that might offer upon the other side. The _Pandora_ would no
doubt proceed with her cargo to Brazil, or some of the West India
islands. What hope then? She would necessarily act in a clandestine
manner while discharging her freight. It would be done under cover of
the night, on some desert coast far from a city or even a seaport, and,
in fear of the cruisers, there would be great haste. A single night
would suffice to land her smuggled cargo of human souls, and in the
morning she would be off again--perhaps on a fresh trip of a similar
kind. There might be no opportunity, whatever, for me to go ashore--in
fact, it was not likely there would be--although I would not there have
scrupled to take to the woods, trusting to God to preserve me.

The more I reflected the more was I convinced that my escape from what
now appeared to me no better than a floating prison, would be an
extre