his disgust with the bad company which he had been in, and looked forward with anxiety to the day when he might return to his native country.  I advised him to get on board an American vessel, whenever an opportunity offered, and come to the United States; and on his arrival direct a letter to me; repeating my earnest desire to make some return for the disinterested friendship which he had shown toward me.  With the Frenchman I had but little conversation, being unacquainted with the language.

Here ended Nickola’s account.  “And now” said the Frenchman, “our hearts be easy.”  Nickola observed he had left all and found us.  I gave them my warmest tribute of gratitude, saying I looked upon them under God as the preservers of our lives, and promised them all the assistance which my situation might enable me to afford.—­This brings me to,

Thursday evening, 7th, when, at eleven o’clock, we anchored at the creek’s mouth, near the Exertion.  I was anxious to board her; accordingly took with me Nickola, Thomas, George and two others, well armed, each with a musket and cutlass.  I jumped on her deck, saw a fire in the camboose, but no person there:  I called aloud Mr. Bracket’s name several times, saying “it is Captain Lincoln, don’t be afraid, but show yourself,” but no answer was given.  She had no masts, spars, rigging, furniture, provisions or any think left, except her bowsprit, and a few barrels of salt provisions of her cargo.  Her ceiling had holes cut in it, no doubt in their foolish search for money.  I left her with peculiar emotions, such as I hope never again to experience; and returned to the little sloop where we remained till—­

Friday, 8th—­When I had disposition to visit the island on which we were first imprisoned.——­Found nothing there—­saw a boat among the mangroves, near the Exertion.  Returned, and got under way immediately for Trinidad.  In the night while under full sail, run aground on a sunken Key, having rocks above the water, resembling old stumps of trees; we, however, soon got off and anchored.  Most of those Keys have similar rocks about them, which navigators must carefully guard against.

Monday, 11th—­Got under way—­saw a brig at anchor about five miles below the mouth of the harbor; we hoped to avoid her speaking us; but when we opened in sight of her, discovered a boat making towards us, with a number of armed men in her.  This alarmed my friends, and as we did not see the brig’s ensign hoisted, they declared the boat was a pirate, and looking through the spy-glass, they knew some of them to be the Mexican’s men!  This state of things was quite alarming.  They said, “we will not be taken alive by them.”  Immediately the boat fired a musket; the ball passed through our mainsail.  My friends insisted on beating them off:  I endeavored to dissuade them, believing, as I did, that the brig was a Spanish man-of-war, who had sent her boat to ascertain who we were.  I thought we had better heave to.  Immediately