ness that he now suffered, there was abundant time for reflection. His life passed before him like a moving panorama. What had he ever done for the happiness of others? Nothing. How had he sought his own? By trying to appear what he was not. He wished to appear rich, he was not so. He wished to appear brave, at heart he was a coward. He wished to be considered polite and refined, he was rude and coarse. In striving after appearances he had totally neglected reality.

His mother, his excellent, loving mother,—she was now revealed to him in her true character. The large tears rolled over his pale, thin face, as he thought of her neglected counsels, and all the trouble he had occasioned her.

Fanny, sweet Fanny, seemed to hover near him like some mild spirit of love and tenderness. Susan, too, in spite of her candor and plaindealing severity, was a generous sister. How could he ever repay them all for their self-sacrificing kindness? He thought, again and again, of that last fortnight in Boston, when, instead of earnestly looking for some respectable employment, he had strutted about the streets as if he were as rich as Croesus, until his time and money

were spent, and he was forced, as a last resort, to go to sea.

That home, which he had once despised, — what spot on earth now seemed so lovely! "Home, sweet home." When the sullen waves dashed at midnight against the shattered vessel, O, what agony thrilled through his soul as those words seemed to vibrate there,

"Home! sweet home! There's no place like home!

CHAPTER XIII.

A SAIL.

On the fourth morning after the ship had carried away her masts, the joyful sound was heard, "A sail! a sail!"

Suddenly a fresh breeze came over the water; the vessels neared and neared, and the crew of the dismasted ship became almost frantic with joy.

It was soon changed to the deepest dejection; for the vessel bore off in an easterly direction, and either saw not their forlorn condition, or chose to take no notice of their signals of dis

tress.

To increase their anxiety, the leak was gaining fast upon them, and the labor at the pumps was incessant. Captain Wye, who had just recovered from sickness, which had been succeed

ed by great debility, seemed entirely bewildered, and knew not what directions to give for the safety and preservation of the crew.

Some of the sailors, in a state of extreme desperation, drank freely of ardent spirits, and became mutinous and disobedient.

It was necessary that all should work, by turns, at the pumps. Towards the morning of the fifth day, while the captain, Joseph Brandon, Frank Wood, and two common sailors, were sleeping soundly, during the brief space allowed them for rest, the first mate, with the remainder of the crew, had taken the long-boat and escaped.

One of the sailors, accustomed to wake, from habit, at the time appointed, went upon deck without being called, and found it entirely deserted. He immediately gave the alarm, and all who remained on board were soon upon deck.

Frank's courage had held out manfully, hitherto; but when he saw the terrible condition to which they were now reduced, he sat down and wept piteously. "My father, my dear father, I shall never see you again," said he, with a bursting heart.

Brandon, who was but just able to crawl upon

deck, at the sight of Frank's sorrow was in absolute despair.

The water was gaining rapidly in the hold. The sailors said the vessel could not remain above water more than twelve hours longer.

reason.

The captain seemed utterly to have lost his He was calm, but it was not the calmness of a strong mind; it was the fearful indifference of idiotic derangement.

The sailors went to work to construct a raft. They endeavoured to cheer Frank with the hope that they might thus be saved, and he aroused himself to assist them in their labor.

As soon as it was finished, he attempted to go below to get his chest, or at least some of his clothing. It was already under water. Joseph was sorely distressed when he found that his chest, too, was not to be recovered.

They had hitherto had an abundance of water and provisions; but the men in the long-boat had carried off a quantity, and what remained would not long hold out.

Far in the distance the anxious eyes of one of the sailors discovered a mere speck in the horizon. It might be a sail, it might be only a cloud. It grew larger and larger. It was a sail!