Accordingly, when the boat went off, the boatswain came to me and told
me the boat was going off, and that he went in it himself, and asked me
if my letter was ready he would take care of it. I had prepared
myself, you may be sure, pen, ink, and paper beforehand, and I had
gotten a letter ready directed to my governess, and enclosed another
for my fellow-prisoner, which, however, I did not let her know was my
husband, not to the last. In that to my governess, I let her know
where the ship lay, and pressed her earnestly to send me what things I
knew she had got ready for me for my voyage.
When I gave the boatswain the letter, I gave him a shilling with it,
which I told him was for the charge of a messenger or porter, which I
entreated him to send with the letter as soon as he came on shore, that
if possible I might have an answer brought back by the same hand, that
I might know what was become of my things; 'for sir,' says I, 'if the
ship should go away before I have them on board, I am undone.' I took care, when I gave him the shilling, to let him see that I had a
little better furniture about me than the ordinary prisoners, for he
saw that I had a purse, and in it a pretty deal of money; and I found
that the very sight of it immediately furnished me with very different
treatment from what I should otherwise have met with in the ship; for
though he was very courteous indeed before, in a kind of natural
compassion to me, as a woman in distress, yet he was more than
ordinarily so afterwards, and procured me to be better treated in the
ship than, I say, I might otherwise have been; as shall appear in its
place.
He very honestly had my letter delivered to my governess's own hands,
and brought me back an answer from her in writing; and when he gave me
the answer, gave me the shilling again. 'There,' says he, 'there's
your shilling again too, for I delivered the letter myself.' I could
not tell what to say, I was so surprised at the thing; but after some
pause, I said, 'Sir, you are too kind; it had been but reasonable that
you had paid yourself coach-hire, then.' 'No, no,' says he, 'I am overpaid. What is the gentlewoman? Your
sister.' 'No, sir,' says I, 'she is no relation to me, but she is a dear friend,
and all the friends I have in the world.' 'Well,' says he, 'there are
few such friends in the world. Why, she cried after you like a child,'
'Ay,' says I again, 'she would give a hundred pounds, I believe, to
deliver me from this dreadful condition I am in.' 'Would she so?' says he. 'For half the money I believe I could put you
in a way how to deliver yourself.' But this he spoke softly, that
nobody could hear.