ning. I waited an hour more, when the sergeant of marines
came down with two more men, one of whom, to my great joy, was Hickman.
This made me more comfortable, as I was not answerable for the other
two; still I was in great trouble from the riotous and insolent
behaviour of the boat's crew, and the other men brought down by the
sergeant of marines. One of them fell back into a basket of eggs, and
smashed them all to atoms; still the marine officer did not come down,
and it was getting late. The tide being now at the ebb, running out
against the wind, there was a heavy sea, and I had to go off to the ship
with a boat deeply laden, and most of the people in her in a state of
intoxication. The coxswain, who was the only one who was sober,
recommended our shoving off, as it would soon be dark, and some accident
would happen. I reflected a minute, and agreeing with him, I ordered the
oars to be got out, and we shoved off, the sergeant of marines and the
gun-room steward perched up in the bows--drunken men, ducks and geese,
lying together at the bottom of the boat--the stern sheets loaded up to
the gunwale, and the other passengers and myself sitting how we could
among the crockery and a variety of other articles with which the boat
was crowded. It was a scene of much confusion--the half-drunken boat's
crew _catching crabs_, and falling forward upon the others--those who
were quite drunk swearing they _would_ pull. "Lay on your oar, Sullivan;
you are doing more harm than good. You drunken rascal, I'll report you
as soon as we get on board."

"How the divil can I pull, your honour, when there's that fellow Jones
breaking the very back o' me with his oar, and he never touching the
water all the while?"

"You lie," cried Jones; "I'm pulling the boat by myself against the
whole of the larbard oars."

"He's rowing _dry_, your honour--only making bilave."

"Do you call this rowing dry?" cried another, as a sea swept over the
boat, fore and aft, wetting everybody to the skin.

"Now, your honour, just look and see if I ain't pulling the very arms
off me?" cried Sullivan.

"Is there water enough to cross the bridge, Swinburne?" said I to the
coxswain.

"Plenty, Mr Simple; it is but quarter ebb, and the sooner we are on
board the better."

We were now past Devil's Point, and the sea was very heavy: the boat
plunged in the trough, so that I was afraid that she would break her
back. She was soon half full of water, and the two