ssions of gratitude, but
he would receive no reward.

When the tent was completed and the whole company were comfortably
established under the shelter of it, the boat was passed to and fro
again through the surf, to bring provisions on shore. A party of seamen
remained on board for this purpose--loading the boat at the ship, and
drawing it out again when unloaded on the shore. The company that were
assembled under the tent dried their clothes by fires built for the
purpose there, and then made a rude breakfast from the provisions
brought for them from the ship: and when thus in some degree rested and
refreshed, they were all conveyed safely in boats to the main land.

MAURICE TIERNAY, THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE.[8]

CHAPTER XXXII.

"THE ATHOL TENDER."

As I cast my eyes over these pages, and see how small a portion of my
life they embrace, I feel like one who, having a long journey before
him, perceives that some more speedy means of travel must be adopted, if
he ever hope to reach his destination. With the instinctive prosiness of
age, I have lingered over the scenes of boyhood, a period which, strange
to say, is fresher in my memory than many of the events of few years
back; and were I to continue my narrative as I have begun it, it would
take more time on my part, and more patience on that of my readers, than
are likely to be conceded to either of us. Were I to apologize to my
readers for any abruptness in my transitions, or any want of continuity
in my story, I should, perhaps, inadvertently seem to imply a degree of
interest in my fate which they have never felt; and, on the other hand,
I would not for a moment be thought to treat slightingly the very
smallest degree of favor they may feel disposed to show me. With these
difficulties on either hand, I see nothing for it but to limit myself
for the future to such incidents and passages of my career as most
impressed themselves on myself, and to confine my record to the events
in which I personally took a share.

Santron and I sailed from New York on the 9th of February, and arrived
in Liverpool on the 14th of March. We landed in as humble a guise as
need be. One small box contained all our effects, and a little leathern
purse, with something less than three dollars, all our available wealth.
The immense movement and stir of the busy town, the crash and bustle of
trade, the roll of wagons, the cranking clatter of cranes and
windlasses, the incessant