We next cleared, by burning and rooting up, as much land as would serve to sustain the little colony for the ensuing season; and having planted a crop of corn and potatoes, and given the settlers many articles useful in their new abode, we left them agreeably to our orders, and to my great joy returned to dear Halifax where I again was blessed with the sight of my innocent harem.  I remember well that I received a severe rebuke from the captain for inattention to signals.  One was addressed to us from the flag-ship; I was signal midshipman; but instead of directing my glass towards the old Centurion, it was levelled at a certain young Calypso, whose fair form I discovered wandering along the “gazon fleuris:”  how long would I not have dwelt in this happy Arcadia, had not another Mentor pushed me off the rocks, and sent me once more to buffet the briny waves!

Contrary to the opinion of any rational being, the President of the United States was planning a war against England, and every ship in Halifax harbour was preparing to fight the Yankees.  The squadron sailed in September.  I bade adieu to the nymphs of Nova Scotia with more indifference than became me, or than the reception I had met with from them seemed to deserve; but I was the same selfish and ungrateful being as ever.  I cared for no one but my own dear self, and as long as I was gratified, it mattered little to me how many broken hearts I left behind.

Chapter XIV

                 At once the winds arise,
  The thunders roll, the forky lightning flies;
  In vain the master issues out commands,
  In vain the trembling sailors ply their hands: 
  The tempest unforeseen prevents their care,
  And from the first, they labour in despair.

Dryden’s “Fables.”

Halifax is a charming, hospitable place:  its name is associated with so many pleasing recollections, that it never fails to extort another glass from the bottle which, having been gagged, was going to pass the night in the cellaret.  But only say Halifax! and it is like “Open sesame!”—­out flies the cork, and down goes a bumper to the “health of all good lasses!”

I related, in the last chapter, an adventure with an Irish Guineaman, whose cargo my right honourable captain converted to the profitable uses of himself and his country.  Another of these vessels had been fallen in with by one of our cruisers, and the commander of His Majesty’s sloop, the Humming Bird, made a selection of some thirty or forty stout Hibernians to fill up his own complement, and hand over the surplus to the admiral.