as we have said, the second mate and little tommy remained to seek new voyages. such was the fact with the second mate; but tommy had contracted a violent cold on the night he was locked up in the guard-house, and had been a subject for the medicine-chest for some time; and this, with his ardent attachment for manuel, and hopes to join him again as a sailing companion, was the chief inducement for his remaining. the captain gave them accommodations in the cabin so long as he had possession of the ship, which afforded the means of saving their money, of which tommy had much need; for notwithstanding he received a nice present from the consul, and another from the captain, which, added to the few dollars that were coming to him for wages, made him feel purse-proud, though it was far from being adequate to sustain him any length of time, or to protect him against any sudden adversity.

the captain had not seen little george, the secessionist, since his assurance that he would make every thing right with mr. grimshaw, and have manuel out in less than twenty-four hours. it was now the fourteenth of april, and the signs of his getting out were not so good as they were on the first day he was committed, for the vessel being condemned, if the law was carried to the strictest literal construction, manuel would be tied up among the human things that are articles of merchandise in south carolina. he was passing from the wharf to the consul's office about ten o'clock in the morning, when he was suddenly surprised in the street by little george, who shook his hand as if he had been an old friend just returned after a long absence. he made all the apologies in the world for being called away suddenly, and consequently, unable to render that attention to his business which his feelings had prompted. like all secessionists, george was very fiery and transitory in his feelings. he expressed unmeasurable surprise when the captain told him the condition of his man in the old jail. "you don't say that men are restricted like that in charleston? well, now, i never was in that jail, but it's unsuited to the hospitality of our society," said he.

"your prison groans with abuses, and yet your people never hear them," replied the captain.

george seemed anxious to change the subject, and commenced giving the captain a description of his journey to the plantation, his hunting and fishing, his enjoyments, and the fat, saucy, slick niggers, the fine corn and bacon they had, and what they said about massa, ending with an endless encomium of the "old man's" old whiskey, and how he ripened it to give it smoothness and flavor. his description of the plantation and the niggers was truly wonderful, tantalizing the captain's imagination with the beauties of a growing principality in itself. "we have just got a new vessel added to our ships, and she sails for the pedee this afternoon. we got the right stripe of a captain, but we have made him adopt conditions to be true to the secession party. as soon as i get another man, we'll despatch her in grand style, and no mistake."

the captain thought of his second mate, and suggested him at once. "just the chap. my old man would like him, i know," said george, and they returned directly to the janson, where they found the second mate lashing his dunnage. the proposition was made and readily accepted. again the captain parted with little george, leaving him to take the mate to his father's office, while he pursued his business at the consul's.

george led the mate into the office. "here, father, here's a man to go in our vessel," said he. the old man looked upon him with a serene importance, as if he was fettered with his own greatness.

"my shipping interests are becoming very extensive, my man; i own the whole of four schooners, and a share in the greatest steamship afloat-i mean screw-ship, the south carolina--you've heard of her, i suppose?" said the old man.

jack stood up with his hat in his hand, thinking over what he meant by big interests, and "reckoning he hadn't seen the establishment of them ship-owners about prince's dock, what owned more ships apiece than there were days in the month."

"now, my man," continued the old man, "i'm mighty strict about my discipline, for i want every man to do his duty for the interests of the owners. but how many dollars do you want a month, my man?"

"nothing less than four pounds starling; that's twenty dollars your currency, if i reckon right," said jack, giving his hat a twirl upon the floor.

"wh-e-w! you belong to the independent sailors. you'll come down from that afore you get a ship in this port. why, i can get a good, prime nigger feller sailor for eight dollars a month and his feed."

jack concluded not to sail in any of the old man's big ships, and said, "yes, i joined them a long time ago, and i ha'n't regretted it, neither; wouldn't pull a bow-line a penny less. i don't like drogging, no-how. good morning, sir," said he, putting on his hat and backing out of the door.

"i wish you'd a' taken a chance with my father, old fellow; he'd a' made you captain afore a year," said george, as he was leaving the door.

"the like o' that don't signify. i've been skipper in the west ingie trade years ago. there isn't much difference between a nigger and a schooner's captain," said jack, as he walked off to the janson, preparatory to taking lodgings ashore.

that afternoon about five o'clock, a loud noise was heard on board a little schooner, of about sixty tons' register, that lay in a bend of the wharf a few lengths ahead of the janson. captain thompson and his second mate were seated on a locker in the cabin, conversing upon the prospects ahead, when the noise became so loud that they ran upon deck to witness the scene.

george stood upon the capsill of the wharf, with mortification pictured in his countenance. "well, captain, you needn't make so much noise about it; your conduct is decidedly ungentlemanly. if you don't wish to sail in father's employ, leave like a gentleman," said george, pulling up the corners of his shirt-collar.

it was the great craft that george had distended upon, and the veritable captain of the right stripe, who promised to toe the mark according to secession principles, but made no stipulations for the nigger feed that was the cause of the excitement. the captain, a baltimore coaster, and accustomed to good feed in his vessels at home, had been induced by a large representations to take charge of the craft and run her in the pedee trade, bringing rice to charleston. on being told the craft was all ready for sea, he repaired on board, and, to his chagrin, found two black men for a crew, and a most ungainly old wench, seven shades blacker than egyptian darkness, for a cook. this was imposition enough to arouse his feelings, for but one of the men knew any thing about a vessel; but on examining the stores, the reader may judge of his feelings, if he have any idea of supplying a vessel in a northern port, when we tell him that all and singular the stores consisted of a shoulder of rusty western bacon, a half-bushel of rice, and a jug of molasses; and this was to proceed the distance of a hundred miles, but to add to the ridiculous farce of that south carolina notion, when he remonstrated with them, he was very indifferently told that it was what they always provided for their work-people.

"take your' little jebacca-boat and go to thunder with her," said the captain, commencing to pick up his duds.

"why, captain, i lent you my gun, and we always expect our captains to make fresh provision of game as you run up the river," said george.

"fresh provisions, the devil!" said the captain. "i've enough to do to mind my duty, without hunting my living as i pursue my voyage, like a hungry dog. we don't do business on your nigger-allowance system in maryland." and here we leave him, getting one of the negroes to carry his things back to his boarding-house.

a few days after the occurrence we have narrated above little tommy, somewhat recovered from his cold, shipped on board a little centre-board schooner, called the three sisters, bound to the edisto river for a cargo of rice. the captain, a little, stubby man, rather good looking, and well dressed, was making his maiden voyage as captain of a south carolina craft. he was "south carolina born," but, like many others of his kind, had been forced to seek his advancement in a distant state, through the influence of those formidable opinions which exiles the genius of the poor in south carolina. for ten years he had sailed out of the port of boston, had held the position of mate on two indian voyages under the well-known captain nott, and had sailed with captain albert brown, and received his recommendation, yet this was not enough to qualify him for the nautical ideas of a pompous south carolinian.

tommy got his baggage on board, and before leaving, made another attempt at the jail to see his friend manuel. he presented himself to the jailer, and told him how much he wanted to see his old friend before he left. the jailer's orders were imperative. he was told if he came next week he would see him; that he would then be released, and allowed to occupy the cell on the second floor with the other stewards. recognising one of the stewards that had joined with them when they enjoyed their social feelings around the festive barrel, he walked into the piazza to meet him and bid him good-by. while he stood shaking hands with him, the poor negro.

the name of this poor fellow was george fairchild. after being sent to the workhouse to receive twenty blows with the paddle when he was scarcely able to stand, he was taken down from the frame and supported to the jail, where he remained several weeks, fed at a cost of eighteen cents a day. his crime was "going for whiskey at night," and the third offence; but there were a variety of pleadings in his favor. his master worked his negroes to the very last tension of their strength, and exposed their appetites to all sorts of temptation, especially those who worked in the night-gang. his master flogged him once, while he was in the jail, himself, giving him about forty stripes with a raw hide on the bare back: not satisfying his feelings with this, he concluded to send him to new orleans. he had an affectionate wife and child, who were forbidden to see him. his master ordered that he should be sent to the workhouse and receive thirty-nine paddles before leaving, and on the morning he was to be shipped, his distressed wife, hearing the sad news, came to the jail; but notwithstanding the entreaties of several debtors, the jailer could not allow her to come in, but granted, as a favor, that she should speak with him through the grated door. the cries and lamentations of that poor woman, as she stood upon the outside, holding her bond-offspring in her arms, taking a last sorrowing farewell of him who was so dearly cherished and beloved, would have melted a heart of stone. she could not embrace him, but waited until he was led out to torture, when she threw her arms around him, and was dragged away by a ruffian's hand.

poor george fairchild! we heard him moaning under the acute pain of the paddle, and saw him thrust into a cart like a dog, to be shipped as a bale of merchandise for a distant port, who had suffered with him in the guard-house came up and saluted him with a friendly recognition. some two weeks had passed since the occurrence, and yet his head presented the effects of bruising, and was bandaged with a cloth. "good young massa, do give me a' fo' pence, for is'e mose starve," he said in a suppliant tone. tommy put his hand into his pocket, and drawing out a quarter, passed it to the poor fellow, and received his thanks. leaving a message for manuel that he would be sure to call and see him when he returned, he passed from the house of misery and proceeded to his vessel.

the captain of the schooner had been engaged by parties in charleston, who simply acted as agents for the owners. he had been moved to return to charleston by those feelings which are so inherent in our nature, inspiring a feeling for the place of its nativity, and recalling the early associations of childhood. each longing fancy pointed back again, and back he came, to further fortune on his native soil. his crew, with the exception of tommy, consisted of three good, active negroes, one of whom acted as pilot on the edisto river. accustomed to the provisioning of boston ships, he had paid no attention to his supplies; for, in fact, he only took charge of the little craft as an accommodation to the agents, and with the promise of a large vessel as soon as he returned; and sailing with a fine stiff breeze, he was far outside the light when the doctor announced dinner. "what have you got that's good, old chap?" said he to the cook.

"fust stripe, massa cap'en. a right good chance o' homony and bacon fry," returned the negro.

"homony and what? nothing else but that?"

"why, massa! gracious, dat what massa whaley give all he cap'en, an' he tink 'em fust-rate," said the negro.

as they were the only whites on board, the captain took little tommy into the cabin with him to sit at the same table; but there was too much truth in the negro's statement, and instead of sitting down to one of those nice dinners which are spread in boston ships, both great and small, there, on a little piece of pine board, swung with a preventer, was a plate of black homony covered with a few pieces of fried pork, so rank and oily as to be really repulsive to a common stomach. beside it was an earthen mug, containing about a pint of molasses, which was bedaubed on the outside to show its quality. the captain looked at it for a minute, and then taking up the iron spoon which stood in it, and letting one or two spoonfuls drop back, said, "old daddie, where are all your stores? fetch them out here."

"gih, massa! here 'em is; 'e's jus' as massa stoney give 'em," said the negro, drawing forth a piece of rusty and tainted bacon, weighing about fifteen pounds, and, in spots, perfectly alive with motion; about a half-bushel of corn-grits; and a small keg of molasses, with a piece of leather attached to the bung.

"is that all?" inquired the captain peremptorily.

"yes, massa, he all w'at 'em got now, but git more at massa whaley plantation win 'em git da."

"throw it overboard, such stinking stuff; it'll breed pestilence on board," said the captain to the negro, (who stood holding the spoiled bacon in his hand, with the destructive macalia dropping on the floor,) at the same time applying his foot to the table, and making wreck of hog, homony, molasses, and plates.

"gih-e-wh-ew! massa, i trow 'im o'board, massa whaley scratch 'em back, sartin. he tink 'em fust-rate. plantation nigger on'y gits bacon twice week, massa cap'en," said he, picking up the wreck and carrying it upon deck, where it was devoured with great gusto by the negroes, who fully appreciated the happy god-send.

the captain had provided a little private store of crackers, cheese, segars, and a bottle of brandy, and turning to his trunk, he opened it and drew them out one by one, passing the crackers and cheese to tommy, and imbibing a little of the deacon himself, thus satisfying the cravings of nature. night came on; they were crossing the bar and approaching the outlet of the edisto, which was broad in sight; but there was neither coffee nor tea on board, and no prospect of supper-nothing but a resort to the crackers and cheese remained, the stock of which had already diminished so fast, that what was left was treasured among the things too choice to be eaten without limitation. they reached the entrance, and after ascending a few miles, came to anchor under a jut of wood that formed a bend in the river. the baying of dogs during the night intimated the vicinity of a settlement near, and in the morning the captain sent one of the negroes on shore for a bottle of milk. "massa, dat man what live yonder ha'n't much no-how, alwa's makes 'em pay seven-pence," said the negro. sure enough it was true; notwithstanding he was a planter of some property, he made the smallest things turn to profit, and would charge vessels going up the river twelve and a half cents per bottle for milk.

the captain had spent a restless night, and found himself blotched with innumerable chinch-bites; and on examining the berths and lockers, he found them swarming in piles. calling one of the black men, he commenced overhauling them, and drew out a perfect storehouse of rubbish, which must have been deposited there, without molestation, from the day the vessel was launched up to the present time, as varied in its kinds as the stock of a jew-shop, and rotten with age. about nine o'clock they got under weigh again, and proceeding about twenty miles with a fair wind and tide, they came to another point in the river, on which a concourse of men had assembled, armed to the teeth with guns, rifles, and knives. as he passed up, they were holding parley with a man and boy in a canoe a few rods from the shore. at every few minutes they would point their rifles at him, and with threatening gestures, swear vengeance against him if he attempted to land. the captain, being excited by the precarious situation of the man and his boy, and anxious to ascertain the particulars, let go his anchor and "came to" a few lengths above.

scarcely had his anchor brought up than he was hailed from the shore by a rough-looking man, who appeared to be chief in the manouvre, and who proved to be no less a personage than a mr. s--k, a wealthy planter.

"don't take that man on board of your vessel, at the peril of your life, captain. he's an abolitionist," said he, accompanying his imperative command with a very southern rotation of oaths.

the man paddled his canoe on the outside of the vessel, and begged the captain "for god's sake to take him on board and protect him; that an excitement had been gotten up against him very unjustly, and he would explain the circumstances if he would allow him to come on board."

"come on board," said the captain. "let you be abolitionist or what you will, humanity will not let me see you driven out to sea in that manner; you would be swamped before you crossed the bar."

he came on board, trembling and wet, the little boy handing up a couple of carpet-bags, and following him. no sooner had he done so, than three or four balls whizzed past the captain's head, causing him to retreat to the cabin. a few minutes intervened, and he returned to the deck.

"lower your boat and come on shore immediately," they cried out.

the captain, not at all daunted, lowered his boat and went on shore. "now, gentlemen, what do you want with me?" said he, when s--k stepped forward, and the following dialogue ensued:--

"who owns that vessel, and what right have you to harbor a d--d abolitionist?"

"i don't know who owns the vessel; i know that i sail her, and the laws of god and man demand that i shall not pass a man in distress, especially upon the water. he protests that he is not, and never was an abolitionist; offers to prove it if you will hear him, and only asks that you allow him to take away his property," rejoined the captain.

"what! then you are an abolitionist yourself?"

"no, sir. i'm a southern-born man, raised in charleston, where my father was raised before me."

"so much, so good; but just turn that d--d scoundrel ashore as quick as seventy, or we'll tie your vessel up and report you to the executive committee, and stop your getting on more freight on the edisto."

"that i shall not do. you should have patience to investigate these things, and not allow your feelings to become so excited. if i turn him and his son adrift, i'm answerable for their lives if any accident should occur to them," rejoined the captain.

"are you a secessionist, captain, or what are your political principles? you seem determined to protect abolitionists. that scoundrel has been associating with a nigger, and eating at his house ever since he has been here."

"yes, yes, and we'll be d--d if he isn't an abolitionist," joined in a dozen voices, "for he dined at bill webster's last sunday on a wild-turkey. nobody but an infernal abolitionist would dine with a nigger."

"as for politics, i never had much to do with them, and care as little about secession as i do about theology; but i like to see men act reasonably. if you want any thing more of me, you will find me at colonel whaley's plantation to-morrow." thus saying, he stepped into his boat and returned on board of his vessel. just as he was getting under-weigh again, whiz! whiz! whiz! came three shots, one in quick succession after the other, the last taking effect and piercing the crown of his hat, at which they retired out of sight. fearing a return, he worked his vessel about two miles farther up and came to anchor on the other side of the channel, where he waited the return of the tide, and had an opportunity to put his affrighted passengers on board a schooner that was passing down, bound to charleston.

the secret of such an outrage is told in a few words. the man was a timber-getter from the vicinity of new bedford, massachusetts, who, with his son, a lad about sixteen years of age, had spent several winters in the vicinity of the edisto, getting live-oak, what he considered a laudable enterprise. he purchased the timber on the stump of the inhabitants, at a price which left him very little profit, and had also been charged an exorbitant price for every thing he got, whether labor or provisions; and so far had that feeling of south carolina's self-sufficiency been carried out against him in all its cold repulsiveness, that he found much more honesty and true hospitality under the roof of a poor colored man. this so enraged some of the planters, that they proclaimed against him, and that mad-dog cry of abolitionist was raised against him. his horse and buggy, books and papers were packed up and sent to charleston-not, however, without some of the most important of the latter being lost. his business was destroyed, and he and his child taken by force, put into a little canoe with one or two carpet-bags, and sent adrift. in this manner they had followed him two miles down the river, he begging to be allowed the privilege of settling his business and leave respectably-they threatening to shoot him if he attempted to near the shore, or was caught in the vicinity. this was his position when the captain found him. he proceeded to charleston, and laid his case before james l. petigru, esq., united states district attorney, and, upon his advice, returned to the scene of "war on the banks of the edisto," to arrange his business; but no sooner had he made his appearance than he was thrown into prison, and there remained when we last heard of him.

this is one of the many cases which afford matter for exciting comment for the editors of the charleston mercury and the courier, and which reflect no honor on a people who thus set law and order at defiance.