eading files
gained the stairs, and, to my wonderment, the crowd became hushed and
still. Then one burst of excited pity over, not a thought occurred to
any to offer resistance to the law, or dare to oppose the constituted
authorities. How unlike Frenchmen! thought I; nor am I certain whether I
deemed the disparity to their credit!

"Give him a glass of water!" I heard the officer say, as he leaned over
the litter, and the crowd at once opened to permit some one to fetch it.
Before I believed it were possible to have procured it, a tumbler of
water was passed from hand to hand till it reached mine, and, stepping
forward, I bent down to give it to the sick man. The end of a coarse
sheet was thrown over his face, and as it was removed, I almost fell
over him, for it was Santron. His face was covered with a cold sweat,
which lay in great drops all over it, and his lips were slightly
frothed. As he looked up I could see that he was just rallying from a
fainting fit, and could mark in the change that came over his glassy
eyes that he had recognized me. He made a faint effort at a smile, and,
in a voice barely a whisper, said, "I knew thou'd not leave me,
Maurice."

"You are his countryman?" said the officer, addressing me in French.

"Yes, sir," was my reply.

"You are both Canadians, then?"

"Frenchmen, sir, and officers in the service. We only landed from an
American ship yesterday, and were trying to make our way to France."

"I'm sorry for you," said he, compassionately; "nor do I know how to
help you. Come on board the tender, however, and we'll see if they'll
not give you a passage with your friend to the Nore. I'll speak to my
commanding officer for you."

This scene all passed in a very few minutes, and before I well knew how
or why, I found myself on board of a ship's long-boat, sweeping along
over the Mersey, with Santron's head in my lap, and his cold, clammy
fingers grasped in mine. He was either unaware of my presence or too
weak to recognize me, for he gave no sign of knowing me; and during our
brief passage down the river, and when lifted up the ship's side, seemed
totally insensible to every thing.

The scene of uproar, noise, and confusion on board the Athol is far
above my ability to convey. A shipwreck, a fire, a mutiny, all combined,
could scarcely have collected greater elements of discord. Two large
detachments of marines, many of whom, fresh from furlough, were too
drunk for duty, and either