I got all things ready as he had directed, and waited the next morning with the boat washed clean, her ancient and pendants out, and every thing to accommodate his guests; when by and by my patron came on board alone, and told me his guests had put off going, upon some business that fell out, and ordered me, with the man and boy, as usual, to go out with the boat, and catch them some fish, for that his friends were to sup at his house; he commanded me, too, that as soon as I had got some fish, I should bring it home to his house: all of which I prepared to do.
This moment my former notions of deliverance darted into my thoughts, for now I found I was like to have a little ship at my command; and my master being gone, I prepared to furnish myself, not for fishing business, but for a voyage, though I knew not, neither did I so much as consider, whither I would steer; for any where to get out of that place was my way.
My first contrivance was to make a pretence to speak to this Moor, to get something for our subsistence on board; for I told him we must not presume to eat of our patron’s bread. He said, that was true; so he brought a large basket of rusk, or biscuit of their kind, and three jars with fresh water, into the boat. I knew where my patron’s case of bottles stood, which it was evident by the make were taken out of some English prize, and I conveyed them into the boat while the Moor was on shore, as if they had been there before for our master: I conveyed also a great lump of bees’-wax into the boat, which weighed above half a hundred weight, with a parcel of twine or thread, a hatchet, a saw, and a hammer, all which were of great use to us afterwards, especially the wax to make candles. Another trick I tried upon him, which he innocently came into also. His name was Ismael, whom they called Muly, or Moley; so I called to him: “Moley,” said I, “our patron’s guns are on board the boat; can you not get a little powder and shot? It may be we may kill some alcamies (a fowl like our curlews) for ourselves, for I know he keeps the gunner’s stores in the ship.” “Yes,” says he, “I’ll bring some;” and accordingly he brought a great leather pouch, which held about a pound and a half of powder, or rather more, and another with shot, that had five or six pounds, with some bullets, and put all into the boat; at the same time I had found some powder of my master’s in the great cabin, with which I filled one of the large bottles in the case, which was almost empty, pouring what was in it into another; and thus furnished with everything needful, we sailed out of the port to fish. The castle, which is at the entrance of the port, knew who we were, and took no notice of us; and we were not above a mile out of the port before we hauled in our sail, and set us down to fish. The wind blew from the north-north-east, which was contrary to my desire; for had it blown southerly, I had been sure to have made the coast of Spain, and at least reached to the bay of Cadiz; but my resolutions were, blow which way it would, I would be gone from that horrid place where I was, and leave the rest to fate.
After we had fished some time, and catched nothing—for when I had fish on my hook I would not pull them up, that he might not see them—I said to the Moor, “This will not do—our master will not be thus served—we must stand farther off.” He, thinking no harm, agreed, and being in the head of the boat, set the sails; and as I had the helm, I ran the boat out near a league farther, and then brought her to as if I would fish; when, giving the boy the helm, I stepped forward to where the Moor was, and making as if I stooped for something behind him, I took him by surprise with my arm under his twist, and tossed him clear overboard into the sea; he rose immediately, for he swam like a cork, and called to me, begged to be taken in, told me he would go all over the world with me. He swam so strong after the boat, that he would have reached me very quickly, there being but little wind; upon which I stepped into the cabin, and fetching one of the fowling-pieces, I presented it at him, and told him, I had done him no hurt, and if he would be quiet I would do him none—”But,” said I, “you swim well enough to reach to the shore, and the sea is calm—make the best of your way to shore, and I will do you no harm; but if you come near the boat, I’ll shoot you through the head, for I am resolved to have my liberty”—so he turned himself about, and swam for the shore, and I make no doubt but he reached it with ease, for he was an excellent swimmer.