the appearance of a sergeant and a file of
soldiers bearing the evening's rations, which were served out raw, to be
immediately afterwards handed over to a black cook who answered to the
name of "Snowball," and who had good-naturedly constituted himself the
cook of the party. The rations, which included a portion for us
newcomers, consisted of a small modicum of meat, a few vegetables, a
tolerably liberal allowance of coarse black bread, and water _ad
libitum_. The little incident of the serving out of rations having come
to an end, and the sergeant having retired with his satellites, our
friend of the _Sparkling Foam_--whose name, it transpired, was Benjamin
Rogers--resumed his conversation with us by proceeding to "put us up to
a thing or two."

"I've no doubt, gentlemen," he said, "but what you'll be asked to give
your parole to-morrow, if you haven't already--you haven't, eh? well, so
much the better; you'll be asked to-morrow. Now, if you'll take my
advice you won't give it; if you do, you'll simply be turned adrift into
the town to shift for yourselves and find quarters where you can. If
you've got money, and plenty of it, you might manage to rub along pretty
well for a time; but when your cash is gone where are you? Why, simply
nowheres. Now, this is a roughish berth for gentlemen like you, I'll
allow; but within the last few days we've been marched out every morning
and set to work patching up an old battery away out here close to the
beach, and we've been kept at it all day, so that we get plenty of fresh
air and exercise, and merely have to ride it out here during the night.
There's only some half-a-dozen soldiers sent out to watch us; and it's
my idea that it might be no such very difficult matter to give these
chaps the slip some evening, and at nightfall make our way down to the
harbour, seize one of the small coasting craft which seem to be always
there, and make sail for Jamaica. At least that's my notion, gentlemen;
you are welcome to it for what it's worth, and can think it over."

We thanked our new friend for his advice, which we followed so far as to
think and talk it over before stowing ourselves away for the night upon
the bundle of straw which constituted the sole apology for a bed and
covering allowed us by the Spaniards.

Mr Southcott, the master, was indignant beyond measure at the scurvy
treatment thus meted out to us as prisoners of war, and talked a great
deal about the representati