n a
very shattered condition. She was a brig, we perceived, but only one
mast was standing. Her bowsprit was carried away, and her foremast was
gone by the board.

Our captain made a signal to ask what assistance was required. The
answer was, "Some spars for our foremast and bowsprit, and some hands
who may be willing to return to England to help navigate the ship. We
have lost five overboard."

Our kind captain called us all aft. "Here is an opportunity for those
who may desire it to return home," said he. "The brig is in no very
good plight, as you see; but many a vessel in a worse condition has made
a safe voyage. I will not advise you either way. I shall be very sorry
to lose you, but you are at liberty to go."

We thanked him very much for this additional proof of his love of
justice and fair dealing, and La Motte and I consulted together what we
would do. I at all events was ready to run every risk for the sake of
returning home. I also felt that we might be the means of saving the
brig and the people on board her.

La Motte agreed to accompany me; so we told the captain that we would
go. Andrews and another man said that they would accompany us. Our
captain therefore signalled that he would afford all the help asked for,
and told the people in the brig in the meantime to send a boat on board
us. As we passed under the counter of the brig, previous to heaving to,
a man standing on her taffrail hailed us through his speaking-trumpet:

"We cannot do what you ask; we have not a boat that can swim, and we
have only four hands remaining on board."

It struck me as I looked at the man that I knew his figure, and even the
tone of his voice; but where I had seen him I could not tell. While the
ship was being hove-to, we went round to bid farewell to the numerous
friends we had found on board. Had we been brothers, we could not have
been treated more kindly, and to no one was our gratitude more due than
to the honest Bremen captain.

The boat was ready; we stepped into her, with a couple of spars towing
astern. The captain took his seat in the stern-sheets.

"I'll go on board and see my brother skipper," said he. "Now, my sons,
farewell. I shall not forget you, and you will not forget me, I hope.
We may never meet together again in this world, or we may; but I hope
that we shall all be steering the same course to that world which will
last for ever and ever. Don't ever forget that world, my sons