"Bermuda for certain," was another opinion; but Alfonso smiled and said, "Demerara." "Cap'n berry poor sailor, but berry good trader," he informed us in confidence.

"Sell 'm stinking fish and buy gimcracks cheap; sell gimcracks dear to Portugee store in Georgetown, take in sugar--berry good sugar, Demerara sugar--and come back to New York." Alfonso had made the voyage before on these principles, and was all the more willing to believe that this was to be the programme, because he was--at such uncertain intervals as his fate ordained--courting a young lady of colour in Georgetown, Demerara.

I don't think Dennis O'Moore could help sympathizing with people, and as a result of this good-natured weakness, he heard a great deal about that young lady of colour, and her genteel clothes, and how she played the piano, and belonged to the Baptist congregation.
"I've a cousin myself in Demerara, Alfonso," said Dennis.
"Hope she'm kind to you, Dennis.

Hope you can trust her, 'specially if the members walks home with her after meeting." And Alfonso sighed.
But jokes were far too precious on board the _Slut_ for Dennis to spoil this one by explaining that his cousin was a middle-aged gentleman in partnership with the owner of a sugar estate.
As we had sailed on the understanding that the _Water-Lily_ was bound to New York and back again to Halifax, of course we made a fuss and protested at the change.

But we had not really much practical choice in the matter, whatever our strict rights were, and on the whole we found it would be to our advantage to go through with it, especially as we did secure a better understanding about our wages, and the captain promised us more rest on Sundays.