Chapter XXVI.
MISCHIEF BREWING—MY BLOOD IS MADE TO RUN COLD—EVIL CONSULTATIONS AND WICKED RESOLVES—BLOODY BILL ATTEMPTS TO DO GOOD AND FAILS—THE ATTACK—WHOLESALE MURDER—THE FLIGHT—THE ESCAPE.
Next morning I awoke with a feverish brow and a feeling of deep depression at my heart; and the more I thought on my unhappy fate, the more wretched and miserable did I feel.
I was surrounded on all sides by human beings of the most dreadful character, to whom the shedding of blood was mere pastime. On shore were the natives, whose practices were so horrible that I could not think of them without shuddering. On board were none but pirates of the blackest dye, who, although not cannibals, were foul murderers, and more blameworthy even than the savages, inasmuch as they knew better. Even Bill, with whom I had, under the strange circumstances of my lot, formed a kind of intimacy, was so fierce in his nature as to have: acquired the title of "Bloody " from his vile companions. I felt very much cast down the more I considered the subject and the impossibility of delivery, as it seemed to me, at least for a long time to come. At last, in my feeling of utter helplessness, I prayed fervently to the Almighty that he would deliver me out of my miserable condition; and when I had done so I felt some degree of comfort.
When the captain came on deck, before the hour at which the men usually started. for the woods, I begged of
