I discovered him, however, at last. He was
confined to his bed when I saw him, and appeared to me to be delirious. I
could collect nothing from himself relative to the particulars of his
treatment. In his intervals of sense, he exclaimed against the cruelty both
of the captain and of the chief mate, and pointing to his legs, thighs and
body, which were all wrapped up in flannel, he endeavoured to convince me
how much he had suffered there. At one time he said he forgave them. At
another he asked, if I came to befriend him. At another he looked wildly,
and asked if I meant to take the captain's part and to kill him.
I was greatly affected by the situation of this poor man, whose image
haunted me both night and day, and I was meditating how most effectually to
assist him, when I heard that he was dead.
I was very desirous of tracing something further on this subject, when
Walter Chandler, of the society of the Quakers, who had been daily looking
out for intelligence for me, brought a young man to me of the name of
Dixon.
Pages:
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301