He looked like a man half angry, half pleased; and pausing awhile, but smiling, “Well, Sir,” says he, “if you think yourself secure, you must take your chance; I am sorry your fate should blind you against good advice; but assure yourself if you do not put to sea immediately, you will the very next tide be attacked by five long-boats full of men; and, perhaps, if you are taken, you will be hanged for a pirate, and the particulars be examined into afterwards.  I thought, Sir,” added he, “I should have met with a better reception than this, for doing you a piece of service of such importance.”—­“I can never be ungrateful,” said I, “for any service, or to any man that offers me any kindness; but it is past my comprehension,” said I, “what they should have such a design upon me for; however, since you say there is no time to be lost, and that there is some villanous design in hand against me, I will go on board this minute, and put to sea immediately, if my men can stop the leak, or if we can swim without stopping it:  but, Sir,” said I, “shall I go away ignorant of the reason of all this?  Can you give me no farther light into it?”

“I can tell you but part of the story, Sir,” says he; “but I have a Dutch seaman here with me, and, I believe, I could persuade him to tell you the rest; but there is scarce time for it:  but the short of the story is this, the first part of which, I suppose, you know well enough, viz. that you were with this ship at Sumatra; that there your captain was murdered by the Malaccans, with three of his men; and that you, or some of those that were on board with you, ran away with the ship, and are since turned pirates.  This is the sum of the story, and you will all be seized as pirates, I can assure you, and executed with very little ceremony; for you know merchant-ships shew but little law to pirates, if they get them in their power.”

“Now you speak plain English,” said I, “and I thank you; and though I know nothing that we have done, like what you talk of, but I am sure we came honestly and fairly by the ship; yet seeing such work is a-doing, as you say, and that you seem to mean honestly, I will be upon my guard.”—­“Nay, Sir,” says he, “do not talk of being upon your guard; the best defence is to be out of the danger:  if you have any regard to your life, and the lives of all your men, put out to sea without fail at high-water; and as you have a whole tide before you, you will be gone too far out before they can come down; for they will come away at high water; and as they have twenty miles to come, you’ll get near two hours of them by the difference of the tide, not reckoning the length of the way:  besides, as they are only boats, and not ships, they will not venture to follow you far out to sea, especially if it blows.”