t depress
my youthful spirits. I converted all that my father had left into
money, and set out to try my fortune in foreign lands, accompanied
only by an old servant of the family, who, on account of ancient
attachment, would not part from me and my destiny.

In the harbor of Balsora we embarked, with a favorable wind. The ship,
in which I had taken passage, was bound to India. We had now for
fifteen days sailed in the usual track, when the Captain predicted to
us a storm. He wore a thoughtful look, for it seemed he knew that, in
this place, there was not sufficient depth of water to encounter a
storm with safety. He ordered them to take in all sail, and we moved
along quite slowly. The night set in clear and cold, and the Captain
began to think that he had been mistaken in his forebodings. All at
once there floated close by ours, a ship which none of us had
observed before. A wild shout and cry ascended from the deck, at
which, occurring at this anxious season, before a storm, I wondered
not a little. But the Captain by my side was deadly pale: "My ship is
lost," cried he; "there sails Death!" Before I could demand an
explanation of these singular words, the sailors rushed in, weeping
and wailing. "Have you seen it?" they exclaimed: "all is now over with
us!"

But the Captain had words of consolation read to them out of the
Koran, and seated himself at the helm. But in vain! The tempest began
visibly to rise with a roaring noise, and, before an hour passed by,
the ship struck and remained aground. The boats were lowered, and
scarcely had the last sailors saved themselves, when the vessel went
down before our eyes, and I was launched, a beggar, upon the sea. But
our misfortune had still no end. Frightfully roared the tempest, the
boat could no longer be governed. I fastened myself firmly to my old
servant, and we mutually promised not to be separated from each other.
At last the day broke, but, with the first glance of the morning-red,
the wind struck and upset the boat in which we were seated. After that
I saw my shipmates no more. The shock deprived me of consciousness,
and when I returned to my senses, I found myself in the arms of my old
faithful attendant, who had saved himself on the boat which had been
upturned, and had come in search of me. The storm had abated; of our
vessel there was nothing any more to be seen, but we plainly descried,
at no great distance from us, another ship, towards which the waves
wer