to contend any longer, and submitted to his unlawful demand.  As he was going off, he gave me a small bundle, in which was a pair of linen drawers, sent to me by Nickola, and also the Rev. Mr. Brooks’ “Family Prayer Book.”  This gave me great satisfaction.  Soon after, he returned with his captain, who had one arm slung up, yet with as many implements of war, as his diminutive wicked self could conveniently carry; he told me (through an interpreter who was his prisoner.) “that on his cruize he had fallen in with two Spanish privateers, and beat them off; but had three of his men killed, and himself wounded in the arm”—­Bolidar turned to me and said, “it is a d—­n lie”—­which words proved to be correct, for his arm was not wounded, and when I saw him again, which was soon afterwards, he had forgotten to sling it up.  He further told me, “after tomorrow you shall go with your vessel, and we will accompany you towards Trinidad.”  This gave me some new hopes, and why I could not tell.  They then left us without rendering any assistance.—­This night we got some rest.

Tuesday, 15th.  The words “go after tomorrow,” were used among our Spanish fellow prisoners, as though that happy tomorrow would never come—­in what manner it came will soon be noticed.

Friday, 18th commenced with brighter prospects of liberty than ever.  The pirates were employed in setting up our devoted schooner’s shrouds, stays, &c.  My condition now reminded me of the hungry man, chained in one corner of a room, while at another part was a table loaded with delicious food and fruits, the smell and sight of which he was continually to experience, but alas! his chains were never to be loosed that he might go and partake—­at almost the same moment they were thus employed, the axe was applied with the greatest dexterity to both her masts and I saw them fall over the side!  Here fell my hopes—­I looked at my condition, and then thought of home.—­Our Spanish fellow prisoners were so disappointed and alarmed that they recommended hiding ourselves, if possible, among the mangrove trees, believing, as they said, we should now certainly be put to death; or, what was worse, compelled to serve on board the Mexican as pirates.  Little else it is true, seemed left for us; however, we kept a bright look out for them during the day, and at night “an anchor watch” as we called it, determined if we discovered their boats coming towards us, to adopt the plan of hiding, although starvation stared us in the face—­yet preferred that to instant death.  This night was passed in sufficient anxiety—­I took the first watch.

Saturday, 19th.—­The pirate’s largest boat came for us—­it being day-light, and supposing they could see us, determined to stand our ground and wait the result.  They ordered us all into the boat, but left every thing else; they rowed towards the Exertion—­I noticed a dejection of spirits in one of the pirates, and inquired of him where they were going to carry us?  He shook his