This accident was fatal; the privateer
came alongside of us and laid us by the board, and that night I was in
a French prison, and, I may say, a pauper; for the insurance of the
vessel was void, from my having sailed without convoy. I felt that I
had no one to thank but myself for the unfortunate position I was in;
at all events, I was severely punished, for I remained a prisoner for
nearly six years. I contrived to escape with three or four others; we
suffered dreadfully, and at last arrived in England, in a Swedish
vessel, without money, or even clothes that would keep out the weather.
Of course, I had nothing to do but to look out for a berth on board of
a ship, and I tried for that of second mate, but without success; I was
too ragged and looked too miserable; so I determined, as I was
starving, to go before the mast. There was a fine vessel in the port; I
went on board to offer myself; the mate went down to the captain, who
came on deck, and who should he be but Sanders? I hoped that he would
not remember me, but he did immediately, and held out his hand. I never
did feel so ashamed in my life as I did then. Sanders perceived it, and
asked me down into the cabin.
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