sleepy actions of the drinkers, and the moment for the final stroke of the conspiracy was at hand. While Amboe Robin John and his two brothers were sitting in the cabin of the Duke of York her officers and crew suddenly dropped the rum-cups, and, taking up muskets, cutlasses, and boarding-pikes, that had been placed ready for the occasion, they attacked the unsuspecting and unarmed negroes.
A wild dash for life was made. The three brothers strove to get out of the cabin-windows, but were hauled in and ironed. On deck the negroes who strove to resist were cut down, and those who fled for the rail were tripped or slashed or stabbed or shot, as the case might be. Even the canoes alongside were fired on and sunk with all who happened to be in them, when some were drowned, some were dragged on board, and a few went swimming for the shore.
The noise of the conflict on the Duke of York was a signal to the other ships, on most of which the natives were attacked in like manner. And then came the inhabitants of the New Town; for the slaver captains had arranged that they should hide in the mangroves along shore until the attack was made, when they were to come out with canoes and pick up the Old Town people who might be swimming for the shore. And these, being mad with their thirst for blood, killed more than they took out of the water for slaves. Tn all more than three hundred of the Old Town people were killed or enslaved in the course of this raid planned by the white men.
But the end of the story is not yet told. Having killed or captured the last man in the water, the New Town people paddled to the ships to receive their re-
