ter poured in on all sides. All was lost,
apparently; but, in this extremity, my husband made a last attempt to
save us. He tied my daughters and myself firmly to a plank, taking the
charge of my boy himself, as he feared the additional weight would be
too much for our raft. His intention was to tie himself to another
plank, to fasten this to ours, and, taking his son in his arms, to give
us a chance of being carried to the shore, which did not appear far off.
Whilst he was occupied in placing us, he gave Alfred to the care of a
sailor who was particularly attached to him. I heard the man say, 'Leave
him with me, I will take care to save him.' On this, M. Hirtel insisted
on his restoring him, and I cried out that he should be given to me. At
that moment the ship, which was already fallen on its side, filled
rapidly with water, plunged, and disappeared with all on board. The
plank on which I and my daughters were fixed alone floated, and I saw
nothing but death and desolation round me."

Madame Hirtel paused, almost suffocated by the remembrance of that awful
moment.

"Poor woman!" said my wife, weeping, "it is five years since this
misfortune. It was at the same time as our shipwreck, and was doubtless
caused by the same storm. But how much more fortunate was I! I lost none
that were dear to me, and we even had the vessel left for our use. But,
my dear, unfortunate friend, by what miracle were you saved?"

"It was He who only can work miracles," said the missionary, "who cares
for the widow and the orphan, and without whose word not a hair of the
head can perish, who at that moment gave courage to the
Christian mother."

"My strength," continued she, "was nearly exhausted, when, after being
tossed about by the furious waves, I found myself thrown upon what I
supposed to be a sand-bank with my two children. I envied the state of
my husband and son. If I had not been a mother, I should have wished to
have followed them; but my two girls lay senseless at my side, and I was
anxious, as I perceived they still breathed, to recover them. At the
moment M. Hirtel pushed the raft into the water, he threw upon it a box
bound with iron, which I grasped mechanically, and still held, when we
were left on shore. It was not locked, yet it was with some difficulty,
in my confined position, that I succeeded in opening it. It contained a
quantity of gold and bank-notes, which I looked upon with contempt, and
regret. But there was some