we have done
with her yet. I hope to have a brush with her at daybreak."

"Now, captain, you're jesting; you don't wish that really and truly,
do you?"

"Really and truly, my dear fellow, and the only thing which troubles
me, is that you and your friends will thereby be exposed to danger."

"Bah! don't bother yourself about that, but reflect before you engage
with this slaver, how is it possible to gain any advantage over him?
Remember that he has twice as many men as we have, and eighteen guns
to our three."

"Time will show," replied I, smiling; "but I must and will fight, if I
can only get alongside of him. And now, my dear friend, as the surgeon
has left the cabin, I advise you to go down to your hammock--good
night. I fear that I must remain on deck."

"Good night, captain. Heaven guard you. I will go down and comfort my
friends."

He went below, and I continued my walk on deck, stopping every moment
to look through the nightglass, until my eyes ached. The long night
was at last over, and the light of day found me leaning against the
mast, sleeping soundly. The noise made by the sailors, in holy-stoning
the deck, woke me, and I discovered our friend of the previous night,
under full sail, about four miles to leeward of us, and evidently
striving to reach the coast of Cuba. During the night, however, we had
sailed faster than he had expected, and as we were now between him and
the island, his purpose was frustrated. When he saw that he was thus
cut off from the land, he hoisted his lower sails, fired a gun, and
run up the Spanish flag, as if he had been a vessel of war. It was now
bright day, and Wagtail, Bangs, and Gelid, were all three on deck,
washing themselves. I, myself, was standing forward by the long gun,
when Pegtop, Bangs' black servant, came to me, and said:

"Scuse me, massa captin; could ye gibe me some guns?"

"Some guns," replied I; "certainly, a half dozen of them, if you wish
it."

"Jist de number massa told me to fotch him; tank'e, massa captin."

Pegtop was very fond of this word, "massa," and could never get
accustomed to any other title used by the whites.

"Listen, friend," said I to Pegtop, "now that you have got the guns;
is your master really going to fight?"

The negro stood still, rolling his eyes, and expressing in his
countenance the greatest astonishment.

"Massa Bangs fight! Golly, massa, you jestin? Massa Bangs fight? Why
yer doesn't know him. Ye ought to see de way