g
was hanging over the river, and the objects on shore were with
difficulty to be distinguished. I was chilled from lying all night in
the heavy dew, and, perhaps, still more from previous and extraordinary
excitement. Venture to go down into the cabin I dare not. I had an
indescribable awe, a degree of horror at what I had seen, that made it
impossible; still I was unsatisfied, and would have given worlds, if I
had had them, to explain the mystery. I turned my eyes from the cabin
hatch to the water, thought of my father, and then, for more than half
an hour, watched the tide as it ran up--my mind in a state of vacancy.
As the sun rose, the mist gradually cleared away; trees, houses, and
green fields, other barges coming up with the tide, boats passing and
repassing, the barking of dogs, the smoke issuing from the various
chimneys, all broke upon me by degrees; and I was recalled to the sense
that I was in a busy world, and had my own task to perform. The last
words of my father--and his injunctions had ever been a law to me--were,
"Mind, Jacob, we must be up at the wharf early to-morrow morning." I
prepared to obey him. Purchase the anchor I could not; I therefore
slipped the cable, lashing a broken sweep to the end of it, as a
buoy-rope, and once more the lighter was at the mercy of the stream,
guided by a boy of eleven years old. In about two hours I was within a
hundred yards of the wharf, and well in-shore, I hailed for assistance,
and two men, who were on board of the lighters moored at the wharf,
pushed off in a skiff to know what it was that I wanted. I told them
that I was alone in the lighter, without anchor or cable, and requested
them to secure her. They came on board, and in a few minutes the
lighter was safe alongside of the others. As soon as the lashings were
passed, they interrogated me as to what had happened, but although the
fulfilling of my father's last injunctions had borne up my spirits, now
that they were obeyed a reaction took place. I could not answer them; I
threw myself down on the deck in a paroxysm of grief, and cried as if my
heart would break.

The men, who were astonished, not only at my conduct but at finding me
alone in the lighter, went on shore to the clerk, and stated the
circumstances. He returned with them, and would have interrogated me,
but my paroxysm was not yet over, and my replies, broken my sobs, were
unintelligible. The clerk and the two men went down into t