any other. He had sailed
under it with pride, had pointed to its emblem, as if he felt secure,
when it was unfurled, that the register-ticket which that government had
given him was a covenant between it and himself; that it was a ticket to
incite him to good behavior in a foreign country; and that the flag was
sure to protect his rights, and insure, from the government to which
he sailed respect and hospitality. He had sailed around the world
under it--visited savage and semi-civilized nations--had received
the hospitality of cannibals, had joined in the merry dance with the
Otaheitian, had eaten fruits with the Hottentots, shared the coarse
morsel of the Greenlander, been twice chased by the Patagonians--but
what shall we say?--he was imprisoned, for the olive tints of his color,
in a land where not only civilization rules in its brightest conquests,
but chivalry and honor sound its fame within the lanes, streets, and
court-yards. Echo asks, Where--where? We will tell the reader. That flag
which had waved over him so long and in so many of his wayfarings--that
flag which had so long boasted its rule upon the wave, and had protected
him among the savage and the civilized, found a spot upon this wonderful
globe where it ceased to do so, unless he could change his skin.

CHAPTER III. THE SECOND STORM.

ON the fourth night succeeding the perilous position of the Janson off
Cape Antoine, the brig was making about seven knots, current of the gulf
included. The sun had set beneath heavy radiant clouds, which rolled up
like masses of inflamed matter, reflecting in a thousand mellow shades,
and again spreading their gorgeous shadows upon the rippled surface of
the ocean, making the picture serene and grand.

As darkness quickly followed, these beautiful transparencies of a
West-India horizon gradually changed into murky-looking monitors,
spreading gloom in the sombre perspective. The moon was in its second
quarter, and was rising on the earth. The mist gathered thicker and
thicker as she ascended, until at length she became totally obscured.
The Captain sat upon the companion-way, anxiously watching the sudden
change that was going on overhead; and, without speaking to any one,
rose, took a glance at the compass, and then went forward to the
lookout, charging him to keep a sharp watch, as they were not only in a
dangerous channel, but in the track of vessels bound into and out of the
gulf. After this, he returned