The Land of Bondage. John Bloundelle-Burton

a moment he had seized the ruffian by the throat with his great strong hands while he called to me to secure his pistols, which I did without loss of time; and he so pressed upon his windpipe that O'Rourke's face became almost black. Yet he struggled, too, being, as I think, no coward, and dealt out buffets and blows right and left, some falling on Oliver's face and some on his body. But gradually these blows relaxed in strength and fell harmless on his more brawny antagonist, who never loosed the hold upon his throat, so that 'twas easy to perceive, even in the dark of the archway with its one faint illumination, he must in a few moments be choked to death.

      "Do not kill him, Oliver," I whispered, "do not kill him. Spare him now; he is harmless."

      Whether it was my words or his own merciful nature I know not, but, at any rate, Oliver did at last relax his hold on the other, who, when he had done so, fell to the earth and, after writhing there for a moment, lay perfectly still.

      "We must be speedy," said Oliver, "and lose no time. Look! towards the east the light is coming. Quick. Do you rifle his pockets for the money and the paper-above all, the paper; do not overlook that! while I lift the other into the boat. And gag him with this sash," taking Roderick's sword sash out of his pocket and tossing it to me; "gag him tightly, but leave him room to breathe. I have not killed him, though I came near doing so."

      As he spoke, he snatched up my cousin as easily as though he had been a valise, and went down with him to the boat, throwing him lightly into the stern sheets, and then pushed the boat off by the bow so that she should be ready to float the moment we were in.

      As for me, I went through O'Rourke's pockets hurriedly, finding in them the bag with the remainder of the guineas (in which we discovered afterwards three more jacks, so that we were led to think that he followed, amongst other pursuits, that of passing bad coin whenever it was possible) and also the paper-a scrawl in my uncle's hand writing saying that "he thanked Mr. Quin for what he had done in ridding Ireland of an atrocious young villain and impostor falsely calling himself a member of a noble family, to wit, his own" – and pledging himself to hold Mr. Quin harmless of any proceedings on that account.

      Then, tying Roderick's sash in O'Rourke's mouth, I ran down to the boat, and, jumping into it, rolled up my cloak and coat and took the bow oar.

      Half-an-hour later the dawn was come; already there was stealing over the river that faint light which, even on a winter morning, tells that the day is at hand, and our oars were keeping time well together as we drew near to the ship that was to carry my wretched cousin far away to the Virginia plantations-the plantations to which he and his father fondly hoped they would have consigned me.

      CHAPTER VIII

      AND CAGED

      As we thus drew near to what Oliver said was the Dove-he having been down to reconnoitre her the day before from the shore-our burden gave some signs of coming to, or rather of awakening from his drunken slumbers. First he rolled his head about under the cloak, then he got it free from the folds, and, when he had done this, he opened his bloodshot eyes and stared at us with a look of tipsy amazement. Yet, so strong was the unhappy youth's ruling passion, that he exclaimed:

      "If you have a taste of that spirit left in the flask, I pray you give it me."

      "Feel in the pocket over by your left shoulder," replied Quin, "and you may yet find a drop or so-'twill warm you." Then, turning to me as the wretched Roderick did as he was bidden, Quin said over his shoulder, in a whisper, "'Tis a charity to give it him. It is the last he will taste for many a day. The skippers do not give their prisoners aught else but water on these cruises, and as for the planters-if all accounts be true! – they treat their white slaves no better." After saying which he bent to his oar again.

      For a moment the draught seemed to arouse Roderick and even to put sense into his muddled pate, since, as he gazed on the shore on either side, he muttered, "This is not the way home. Not the way I know of"; but, even as he did so, the fumes of the overnight's liquor, stirred up perhaps by the new accession of drink, got the better of him again and once more he closed his eyes.

      "'Tis thy way home at any rate," I heard Oliver mutter; "the way to the only home you will know of for some years. And may it be as happy a one to thee as thou destined it for thy cousin." Then turning swiftly to me, he said, "Pull two strokes, Gerald; we are alongside the Dove."

      As we slewed round to run alongside the gangway, there stood at the top of it as villainous a looking old man as ever it was my lot to see. An old man clad in a dirty plush suit with, on his head, a hat covered with tarnished, or rather blackened, silver lace; one who squinted hideously down at us.

      "Whence come you, friends?" he asked. "From the noble Captain O'Rourke," replied Oliver, "and we bring you his parting gift. The youth is not well, having partaken freely over night, doubting, perhaps, of your hospitality. Now, sir, if you will produce the price named to the Captain and send down a man or so to haul him on board, he is very much at your service."

      "Ay, ay," said the captain, "let's see him though, first. I don't want to buy a dead man-as I did up at Glasgow not long ago-or one who has lost his limbs. Here, Jabez, and you, Peter, jump down and haul him up," while, as he spoke, he produced a filthy skin bag from his pocket and began counting out some guineas into his palm.

      Those called Jabez and Peter-one of whom was a negro-did as they were bidden, and, shoving our boat a little forward so as to bring the stern, where Roderick lay, up to the platform of the gangway, they quickly threw off the cloak, and, seizing his limbs, began to lift them up and let them fall, to see that they were not broken nor he dead. But such treatment even this poor bemused and sodden creature could not bear without protest, so, as the men seized him and swiftly bore him up the gangway until he stood upon the deck of the Dove-a filthy, dirty-looking craft, with, however, a great, high poop much ornamented with brass and gilding-he began to strike out right and left, and to scream and ejaculate.

      "Hands off, you ruffians, hands off you wretches, I say! What! do you know who I am; do you know that I am the son of the Viscount St. Amande and his heir? Let me go, you dogs!" and putting his hand to where his sword should have been and not finding it there, he struck at the negro, who, instantly striking back at him, fetched him such a blow on the cheek as sent him reeling against the rough-tree rail, where he glowered and muttered at all around.

      "Hark ye, young sir," said the villainous looking skipper, "we have been informed before this by the gallant Captain O'Rourke that it pleases you to style yourself a son of Lord St. Amande." Here Quin nodded up to the speaker, saying, "'Tis so, I have even at this moment a paper in my pocket saying that he does so claim that position." "But let me tell you," the captain went on, "'twill avail you nothing on board this craft. I am, like the honest man in the boat below, in possession of a paper from his lordship saying you will try this tack with me, and, as I tell you, 'twill profit you nothing. You may call yourself what you will but you must accustom yourself to this ship for some weeks, at least, and take your part with these your companions till you reach your destination. While, if you do not do so, I will have you brained with a marling-spike or flung into the sea, or, since I cannot afford to lose you, have you put in irons in the hold," after which he turned away from Roderick, handed the twenty guineas to Oliver, and bellowed out his orders for getting the ship under weigh at once.

      But now, as I glanced at those whom the man spoke of as his companions, my heart went out to my cousin, and, cruelly as he had ever used me, and even remembering that he had chuckled over the doom which now was his having been planned for me, I could not but pity him. Nay, I think, had it been possible, that I would have saved him, would have had him set on shore free again, and would have trusted to Heaven to soften his heart and make him grow into a better man. His companions! The creatures with whom he was to live and herd until he reached Virginia, and even afterwards, maybe. Oh! 'twas dreadful to reflect upon. They stood upon the deck of that horrid-looking craft, surrounding him, jeering at him, mocking at him, but not one with a look of pity in his or her face-as, indeed, 'twas not likely they should have since his fate was theirs. Amongst them there were convicted felons with chains to their legs and arms, who were being sent out so as to ease the jails which were always full to overflowing; there were women who were coin clippers and coiners, and some who-for I learnt their histories afterwards-had been traffickers in their own