head and replied, “I do not know.”  I now had some hopes of visiting my vessel again—­but the pirates made sail, ran down, took us in tow and stood out of the harbor.  Bolidar afterwards took me, my mate and two of my men on board and gave us some coffee.  On examination I found they had several additional light sails, made of the Exertion’s.  Almost every man, a pair of canvas trousers; and my colors cut up and made into belts to carry their money about them.  My jolly boat was on deck, and I was informed, all my rigging was disposed of.  Several of the pirates had on some of my clothes, and the captain one of my best shirts, a cleaner one, than I had ever seen him have on before.—­He kept at a good distance from me, and forbid my friend Nickola’s speaking to me.—­I saw from the companion way in the captain’s cabin my quadrant, spy glass and other things which belonged to us, and observed by the compass, that the course steered was about west by south,—­distance nearly twenty miles, which brought them up with a cluster of islands called by some “Cayman Keys.”  Here they anchored and caught some fish, (one of which was named guard fish) of which we had a taste.  I observed that my friend Mr. Bracket was somewhat dejected, and asked him in a low voice, what his opinion was with respects to our fate?  He answered, “I cannot tell you, but it appears to me the worst is to come.”  I told him that I hoped not, but thought they would give us our small boat and liberate the prisoners.  But mercy even in this shape was not left-for us.  Soon after, saw the captain and officers whispering for some time in private conference.  When over, their boat was manned under the commond of Bolidar, and went to one of those Islands or Keys before mentioned.  On their return, another conference took place—­whether it was a jury upon our lives we could not tell.  I did not think conscience could be entirely extinguished in the human breast, or that men could become fiends.  In the afternoon, while we knew not the doom which had been fixed for us, the captain was engaged with several of his men in gambling, in hopes to get back some of the five hundred dollars, they said, he lost but a few nights before; which had made his unusually fractious.  A little before sunset he ordered all the prisoners into the large boat, with a supply of provisions and water, and to be put on shore.  While we were getting into her, one of my fellow prisoners, a Spaniard, attempted with tears in his eyes to speak to the captain, but was refused with the answer.  “I’ll have nothing to say to any prisoner, go into the boat.”  In the mean time Nickola said to me, “My friend, I will give you your book,” (being Mr. Colman’s Sermons,) “it is the only thing of yours that is in my possession; I dare not attempt any thing more.”  But the captain forbid his giving it to me, and I stepped into the boat—­at that moment Nickola said in a low voice, “never mind, I may see you again before I die.”  The small boat was well armed and manned, and both