“I won’t, I won’t!” he kept saying.  “Hayling, take that devil off and cover them up.  The boat, Hayling!  Fetch the boat and cover them up!” Then, a little after:  “Who says the anchor’s fouled?  How can I tell for the noise?  Tell them, less noise below.  I never done it, tell them!  And take his grinning face out of the way, or you’ll never get it clear!  ’Tisn’t Christian burial—­look at their fins!  D—­n them, Hayling, look at their fins!  Three feet of sand, or they’ll never stay covered.  Who says as I poisoned them?  Hayling knows.  Where is Hayling?”

I am writing down all I can remember; but there was more—­a heap of it—­that I did not catch, being kept busy holding him down till the strength went out of him and he lay quiet; which he did in time, the shivers running down through him between my hands, and his voice muttering on without a stop.

For an hour I sat, hoping he would fall asleep; for his voice weakened little by little, and by-and-by he just lay and stared up at the roof, with only his lips moving.  After that I must have dropped off in a doze; for I came to myself with a start, thinking that I heard him speak to me.  It was the rattle in his throat.  He lay just the same, with his eyes staring, but, putting out a hand to him, I knew at once that the man was dead as a nail.

I had now to think of myself, for I knew that the niggers in the kraal had not spared me out of kindness, but only that I might attend to the white man, who was their friend.  They were even ignorant enough to believe that I had killed him.  I worked out my plan:  (1) I must run for it; (2) the village was asleep, and the sooner I ran the better; (3) they had met me heading for Cape Corse Castle, and would hunt me in that direction—­therefore I had best go straight back on my steps; (4) they were less likely to chase me that way because it led into the Popo country, and Melhuish had told me that these men were Alampas, and afraid of the Popo tribes.  True, if I headed back, there was the river between me and Whydah, the nearest station to eastward; but to get across it I must trust to luck.

I crept out of the hut.  The night was black as my hat, almost, and no guard set.  At the edge of the kraal I made a dash for it, and kept running for three miles.  After that I ran sometimes, and sometimes walked.  The sun was up and the day growing hot when I came to the shore by the river; and there in the offing lay the Mary Pynsent at anchor, just as if nothing had happened, and the boat made fast alongside as I had left her.  If I could swim out and get into the boat, my job was done.  I had not thought upon sharks while swimming ashore, but now I thought of them, and it gave me the creeps.  I dare say I sat on the shore for an hour, staring at the boat before I made up my mind to risk it.  There was a plenty of sharks, too.  When I reached the boat and climbed aboard of her, I took a look around and saw their fins playing about in the shallows, being drawn off there by the dead bodies the gunpowder had blown into the water.