The old man found me a little confused, and under some concern, when he named a Dutch ship:  and said to me, “Sir, you need be under no apprehension of the Dutch; I suppose they are not now at war with your nation.”—­“No,” said I, “that’s true; but I know not what liberties men may take when they are out of the reach of the laws of their country.”—­“Why,” said he, “you are no pirates, what need you fear?  They will not meddle with peaceable merchants, sure.”

If I had any blood in my body that did not fly up into my face at that word, it was hindered by some stop in the vessels appointed by nature to circulate it; for it put me into the greatest disorder and confusion imaginable; nor was it possible for me to conceal it so, but that the old man easily perceived it.

“Sir,” said he, “I find you are in some disorder in your thoughts at my talk; pray be pleased to go which way you think fit, and depend upon it I’ll do you all the service I can.”—­“Why, Seignior,” said I, “it is true, I am a little unsettled in my resolution at this time, whither to go in particular; and I am something more so for what you said about pirates.  I hope there are no pirates in these seas; we are but in an ill condition to meet with them; for you see we have but a small force, and but very weakly manned.”

“O Sir,” said he, “do not be concerned; I do not know that there have been any pirates in these seas these fifteen years, except one, which was seen, as I hear, in the bay of Siam, about a month since; but you may be assured she is gone to the southward; nor was she a ship of any great force, or fit for the work; she was not built for a privateer, but was run away with by a reprobate crew that were on board, after the captain and some of his men had been murdered by the Malaccans, at or near the island of Sumatra.”

“What!” said I, seeming to know nothing of the matter, “did they murder the captain?”—­“No,” said he, “I do not understand that they murdered him; but as they afterwards ran away with the ship, it is generally believed they betrayed him into the hands of the Malaccans, who did murder him; and, perhaps, they procured them to do it.”—­“Why then,” said I, “they deserved death, as much as if they had done it themselves.”—­“Nay,” said the old man, “they do deserve it, and they will certainly have it if they light upon any English or Dutch ship; for they have all agreed together that if they meet that rogue they will give him no quarter.”

“But,” said I to him, “you say the pirate is gone out of these seas; how can they meet with him then?”—­“Why, that is true,” said he, “they do say so; but he was, as I tell you, in the bay of Siam, in the river Cambodia, and was discovered there by some Dutchmen who belonged to the ship, and who were left on shore when they ran away with her; and some English and Dutch traders being in the river, they were within a little of taking him.  Nay,” said he, “if the foremost boats had been well seconded