I found William not very averse to go along with us, and yet resolved to do it so that it might be apparent he was taken away by force.  “Friend,” he says, “thou sayest I must go with thee, and it is not in my power to resist thee if I would; but I desire thou wilt oblige the master of the sloop to certify under his hand that I was taken away by force, and against my will.”  So I drew up a certificate myself, wherein I wrote that he was taken away by main force, as a prisoner, by a pirate ship; and this was signed by the master and all his men.

“Thou hast dealt friendly by me,” says he, when we had brought him aboard, “and I will be plain with thee, whether I came willingly to thee or not.  But thou knowest it is not my business to meddle when thou art to fight.”

“No, no,” says the captain, “but you may meddle a little when we share the money.”

“Those things are useful to furnish a surgeon’s chest,” says William, and smiled, “but I shall be moderate.”

In short, William was a most agreeable companion; but he had the better of us in this part, that if we were taken we were sure to be hanged, and he was sure to escape.  But he was a sprightly fellow, and fitter to be captain than any of us.

IV.—­A Respectable Merchant

We cruised the seas for many years, and after a time William and I had a ship to ourselves with 400 men in authority under us.  As for Captain Wilmot, we left him with a large company at Madagascar, while we went on to the East Indies.

At last we had gotten so rich, for we traded in cloves and spices to the merchants, that William one day proposed to me that we should give up the kind of life we had been leading.  We were then off the coast of Persia.

“Most people,” said William, “leave off trading when they are satisfied of getting, and are rich enough; for nobody trades for the sake of trading; much less do men rob for the sake of thieving.  It is natural for men that are abroad to desire to come home again at last, especially when they are grown rich, and so rich as they would know not what to do with more if they had it.”

“Well, William,” said I, “but you have not explained what you mean by home.  Why, man, I am at home; here is my habitation; I never had any other in my lifetime; I was a kind of charity school-boy; so that I can have no desire of going anywhere for being rich or poor; for I have nowhere to go.”

“Why,” says William, looking a little confused, “hast thou no relatives or friends in England?  No acquaintance; none that thou hast any kindness or any remains of respect for?”

“Not I, William,” said I, “no more than I have in the court of the Great Mogul.  Yet I do not say I like this roving, cruising life so well as never to give it over.  Say anything to me, I will take it kindly.”  For I could see he was troubled, and I began to be moved by his gravity.

“There is something to be thought of beyond this way of life,” says William.