with pain, the man walked slowly forward, and went down into the forecastle.  Every one else stood still at his post, while the captain, swelling with rage, and with the importance of his achievement, walked the quarter-deck, and at each turn, as he came forward, calling out to us:  ``You see your condition!  You see where I’ve got you all, and you know what to expect!’’—­ ``You’ve been mistaken in me; you didn’t know what I was!  Now you know what I am!’’—­ ``I’ll make you toe the mark, every soul of you, or I’ll flog you all, fore and aft, from the boy up!’’—­ ``You’ve got a driver over you!  Yes, a slave-driver,—­ a nigger-driver!  I’ll see who’ll tell me he isn’t a nigger slave!’’ With this and the like matter, equally calculated to quiet us, and to allay any apprehensions of future trouble, he entertained us for about ten minutes, when he went below.  Soon after, John came aft, with his bare back covered with stripes and wales in every direction, and dreadfully swollen, and asked the steward to ask the captain to let him have some salve, or balsam, to put upon it. ``No,’’ said the captain, who heard him from below; ``tell him to put his shirt on; that’s the best thing for him, and pull me ashore in the boat.  Nobody is going to lay-up on board this vessel.’’ He then called to Mr. Russell to take those two men and two others in the boat, and pull him ashore.  I went for one.  The two men could hardly bend their backs, and the captain called to them to ``give way,’’ ``give way!’’ but, finding they did their best, he let them alone.  The agent was in the stern sheets, but during the whole pull—­ a league or more—­ not a word was spoken.  We landed; the captain, agent, and officer went up to the house, and left us with the boat.  I, and the man with me, stayed near the boat, while John and Sam walked slowly away, and sat down on the rocks.  They talked some time together, but at length separated, each sitting alone.  I had some fears of John.  He was a foreigner, and violently tempered, and under suffering; and he had his knife with him, and the captain was to come down alone to the boat.  But nothing happened; and we went quietly on board.  The captain was probably armed, and if either of them had lifted a hand against him, they would have had nothing before them but flight, and starvation in the woods of California, or capture by the soldiers and Indians, whom the offer of twenty dollars would have set upon them.

After the day’s work was done, we went down into the forecastle, and ate our plain supper; but not a word was spoken.  It was Saturday night; but there was no song,—­ no ``sweethearts and wives.’’ A gloom was over everything.  The two men lay in their berths, groaning with pain, and we all turned in, but, for myself, not to sleep.  A sound coming now and then from the berths of the two men showed that they were awake, as awake they must have been, for they could hardly lie in one posture long; the dim, swinging lamp shed its light over the