at,
and facing round in the direction of the sinking brig, solemnly lifted
from his head the old fur cap which crowned his somewhat scanty locks.
He saw that her last moment was at hand, and his lips quivered
convulsively for an instant; then in accents of powerful emotion he
burst forth into the following oration:--

"`Then fare thee well, my old _Betty Jane_,
Farewell for ever and a day;
I'm bound down the river in an old steamboat,
So pull and haul, oh! pull and haul away.'

"Good-bye, old ship! A handsomer craft, a purtier sea-boat, or a
smarter wessel under canvas--whether upon a taut bowline or goin' free--
never cleared out o' the port of London. For a matter of nigh upon
forty year you've carried me, man and boy, back'ards and for'ards in
safety and comfort over these here seas; and now, like a jade, you goes
and founders, a desartin' of me in my old age. Arter a lifetime spent
upon the heavin' buzzum of the stormy ocean--`where the winds do blow,
do blow'--you're bound to-day to y'ur last moorin's in old Davy's
locker. Well, then, good-bye, _Betsy Jane_, my beauty; dear you are to
me as the child of a man's age; may y'ur old timbers find a soft and
easy restin' place in their last berth? And if it warn't for the old
'oman and the lasses ashore there, I'd as lief go down with thee as be
where I am."

Then, as the brig disappeared, he replaced the fur cap upon his head,
brushed his knotty hand impatiently across his eyes, flung his pipe
bitterly into the sea, and sadly resumed his seat. A minute afterwards
he looked intently skyward and exclaimed, "Give way, boys, and keep her
dead afore it! _I'm_ cap'n of this boat."

The men, awe-stricken by the extraordinary display of deep feeling and
quaint rugged eloquence which had just been wrung from their hitherto
phlegmatic and taciturn skipper, stretched to their oars in dead
silence, mechanically keeping the boat stern on to the sea, and so
regulating her speed as to avoid the mischance of being pooped or
overrun by the pursuing surges.

About mid-day--by which time the gale had broken--they sighted a
schooner bound for the Thames, the master of which received them and
their traps on board. Four days afterwards they landed in London; and
upon receiving their wages up to the day of the _Betsy Jane's_ loss,
dispersed to their several homes.

CHAPTER THREE.

"HURRAH, MY LADS! WE'RE OUTWARD-BOUND!"

Bob returned to Brightlingsea just in t