The round house was found too small to contain more than five;
and the sixth man, whose name, I think, was Putnam of Boston,
concealed himself under a large tub, which happened to be lying near
the place of our confinement. The situation of the five, as closely
packed in the round house as we could stand and breathe, was so
uncomfortable as to make us very desirous of vacating it as soon as
possible.
"We remained thus cooped up, hardly daring to breathe, for fear we
should be heard by the guard. The prisoners were all below, and no
noise was heard above, saving the tramp of the guard as he paced the
deck. It was customary, after the prisoners were secured below, for
the ship's mate every night to search above; this, however, was
considered a mere formality, and the duty was very imperfectly
executed. While we were anxiously awaiting the completion of this
service, an event transpired, that we little anticipated, and which
led to our detection.
"One of the prisoners, an Irishman, had made his arrangements to
escape the same evening, and had not communicated with any one on the
subject except a countryman of his, whom he persuaded to bury him up
in the coal hole, near the forecastle.
"Whether his friend covered him faithfully or not, or whether the
Irishman thought that if he could not see anybody, nobody could see
him, or whether, feeling uncomfortable in his position, he turned over
to relieve himself, I know not; but when the mate looked in the coal
hole he espied something rather whiter than the coal, which he soon
ascertained to be the Irishman's shoulder.
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