I then turned round, and
observed a black woman who had just climbed up the side of the frigate.
O'Brien was on deck, and she walked up to him in the most consequential
manner.
"How do you do, sar? Very happy you com back again," said she to
O'Brien.
"I'm very well, I thank you, ma'am," replied O'Brien, "and I hope to go
back the same; but never having put my foot into this bay before, you
have the advantage of me."
"Nebber here before, so help me Gad! me tink I know you--me tink I
recollect your handsome face--I Lady Rodney, sar. Ah, piccaninny buccra!
how you do?" said she, turning round to me. "Me hope to hab the honour
to wash for you, sar," courtesying to O'Brien.
"What do you charge in this place?"
"All the same price, one bit a piece."
"What do you call a bit?" inquired I.
"A bit, lilly massa?--what you call um _bit_? Dem four _sharp shins _to
a pictareen."
Our deck was now enlivened by several army officers, besides gentlemen
residents, who came off to hear the news. Invitations to the mess and to
the houses of the gentlemen followed, and as they departed Mr Falcon
returned on board. He told O'Brien and the other officers, that the
admiral and squadron were expected in a few days, and that we were to
remain in Carlisle Bay and refit immediately. But although the fright
about the yellow fever had considerably subsided in our breasts, the
remembrance that our poor captain was lying dead in the cabin was
constantly obtruding. All that night the carpenters were up making up
his coffin, for he was to be buried the next day.
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