me about day-break, as I desired to go out and pick berries. This was
done, and I was up and dressed before any other member of the family was
stirring. I lost no time, but quitted the house, and walked deliberately
down to the schooner. No one was up on board of her, and I was obliged to
give the mate a call, myself. This man now seemed disposed to draw back
from his bargain, and I had to use a good deal of persuasion before I
could prevail on him to be as good as his word. He did not like to part
with the fowling-piece, but seemed to think it would be fairly purchased,
could he persuade me to run away. At length he yielded, and I got into the
locker, where I was covered with potatoes.

I was a good while in this uncomfortable situation, before there were any
signs of the vessel's quitting the wharf. I began to grow heartily tired
of the confinement, and the love of change revived within me in a new
form. The potatoes were heavy for me to bear, and the confined air
rendered my prison almost insupportable. I was on the point of coming out
of prison, when the noise on deck gave me the comfortable assurance that
the people had come on board, and that the schooner was about to sail. I
could hear men conversing, and, after a period of time that seemed an age,
I felt satisfied the schooner was fairly under way. I heard a hail from
one of the forts as we passed down the harbour, and, not long after, the
Driver, the very sloop of war that had sent the vessel in, met her, and
quite naturally hailed her old prize, also. All this I heard in my prison,
and it served to reconcile me to the confinement. As everything was right,
the ship did not detain us, and we were permitted to proceed.

It was noon before I was released. Going on deck, I found that the
schooner was at sea. Nothing of Halifax was visible but a tower or two,
that were very familiar objects to me. I confess I now began to regret the
step I had taken, and, could I have been landed, it is probable my roving