f-war do not bring vessels to and press the best
men out of them. There the sun's warm, and the sky and the sea are deep
blue, and the corals grow like forests underneath, and there are sandy
coves and cool caves for retreat--and where you may hide your gold till
you want it--ay, and your sweethearts too, if you have any."

"I thought privateers always sent their prizes into port, to be
condemned?"

"Yes, in the Channel and these seas they do, but not down there--it's
too far off. We condemn the vessels ourselves, and share the money on
the capstan-head."

"But is that lawful?"

"Lawful! to be sure it is. Could we spare men to send prizes home to
England, and put them into the hands of a rascally agent, who would rob
us of three-fourths at least? No, no; that would never do. If I could
have escaped from the man-of-war which picked up me and four others who
were adrift in an open boat, I would now have been on the Coast. But
when I lost my fin, I knew that all was over with me, so I came to the
hospital; but I often think of old times, and the life of a rover. Now,
if you have any thoughts of going to sea, look out for some vessel bound
to the Gold Coast, and then you'll soon get in the right way."

"The Gold Coast! Is not that to where the slavers go?"

"Yes, slavers and other vessels besides. Some traffic for ivory and
gold-dust; however, that's as may happen. You'd soon find yourself in
good company, and wouldn't that be better than begging here for
halfpence? I would be above _that_, at all events."

This remark, the first of the kind ever made to me, stung me to the
quick. Strange, I had never before considered myself in the light of a
beggar; and yet, was I not so, just as much as a sweeper of a crossing?"

"A beggar?" replied I.

"Yes, a beggar. Don't you beg for halfpence, and say, 'Thank your honor;
a copper for poor Jack, your honor'?" rejoined Spicer, mimicking me.
"When I see that pretty sister of yours, that looks so like a real lady,
I often thinks to myself, 'Fine and smart as you are, miss, your
brother's only a beggar.' Now, would you not like to return from a
cruise with a bag of doubloons to throw into her lap, proving that you
were a gentleman, and above coppers thrown to you out of charity? Well,
old as I am, and maimed, I'd sooner starve where I now stand.--But I
must be off, so good-by, Jack; look sharp after the halfpence."

As Spicer walked away my young blood boiled. A beggar! It was