Mr. Morton, with six hands in the jolly-boat, came on shore at the usual time, bringing all the remainder of the cargo, which was hardly enough to load two mules. Every thing was landed and loaded upon the mules without interruption, excepting a small package containing silk handkerchiefs, when suddenly a low whistle was heard in the bushes.
"What is that?" said Morton, who held the aforesaid package in his hands.
"Santa Maria!" exclaimed the muleteers, springing upon their horses, and putting them and the mules into rapid motion; "vienen los soldados malditos," the d--d soldiers are coming; the signal was repeated, and in an instant soldiers rushed from different parts of the adjacent bushes, and surrounded the whole party. So sudden and complete was the surprise, that the seamen, though standing in the edge of the water, were intercepted and made prisoners. Morton, as soon as he perceived that flight and resistance were equally out of the question, hailed the two men in the boat that was lying a few yards from the shore, and ordered them to make the best of their way to the ship--an order that was acknowledged by the customary "ay, ay, sir," and obeyed by hoisting their lug-sail, which, filled by a fresh land-breeze, soon carried them out of danger. He, with the remaining four men, were made prisoners. Whether the soldiers were not used to acting against cavalry, or thought the prisoners of more consequence than the merchandise, is doubtful; the mules and their drivers got off safe, although several shots were fired at them as soon as their retreat was perceived.
Ascertaining that there was nothing more to be got on the field of battle; for it was indeed one, as one of the sailors, feeling somewhat restive under the tight grasp that the corporal laid upon his collar, had bestowed upon that humble candidate for military honors a slap in the face, that caused him, in the Nantucket dialect, to "blow blood;" the guard took up their line of march through the wood with their five prisoners. On their melancholy route towards the town, the commanding officer of the party, mindful of the politeness and attention with which he had been treated by Mr. Morton, behaved to his prisoners with great kindness, and endeavored to console this officer by representing that nothing had been found that would or could be deemed sufficient to convict them of any attempt to violate the laws of the province; that the escape of the mules was a favorable circumstance, as they had carried off whatever might have otherwise appeared as evidence against them, whether merchandise or men; which last, with the treachery peculiar to Spaniards, and more universally inherent in the mixed breed of the colonies, would compound for their own safety by implicating their employers; that the governor was a gentleman, and a man of kindly feelings, and that he would undoubtedly pass over what had occurred that night without the exercise of any greater severity than perhaps the imposition of a moderate fine; with sundry other and similar topics of consolation, suggested by kindness and sympathy. But Morton's mind was too confused and agitated by the events of the evening, to allow him to make much reply or to pay much attention to the consolations of the officer; he longed to reach the guard-house, where, in the solitude and silence of the prison, he might have time and opportunity to arrange his ideas, and reflect upon his melancholy and apparently hopeless situation, and correspond, if permitted, with his commander, and with one other.