"Sho! Was the brig struck by lightning?"
"She was. It came down the mainmast and knocked the wheel into a thousand pieces. When the steering-gear gave out, we couldn't do anything more. I'm the only one of twelve men and a passenger that was saved."
Harvey Barth commenced his story anew, when the astonishment of John Carter had abated a little, and gave all the particulars of the voyage and the wreck and all the details of his personal history since he kept school in "York State." It was midnight when he had finished, and the details were discussed for an hour afterwards. Mrs. Carter had brought on more hot tea, with pie and cheese, and other eatables, which the steward had consumed in large quantities, for one of the features of his malady was a ravenous appetite. John Carter, who had been detained at the village by the violence of the storm, was as hospitable as any one could be, and Harvey slept that night in the best bed in the house.
After breakfast the next morning he brought out the oil-cloth which contained his diary. He had carefully concealed it when he changed his clothes, and he was now anxious to know whether it had escaped serious injury in the storm. He unfolded the oil-cloth before John Carter and his wife. To his great satisfaction, he found it unharmed by the floods of water which had drenched him. The water-proof covering had secured it even from any dampness.
Harvey opened the book at a certain place, and exhibited between the leaves a thin pile of bank notes—the whole of his worldly wealth, for, as the Waldo was a total loss, the wages that were due him on account of the voyage were gone forever. But there was fifty-two dollars between the leaves of the diary. He had come from home with a good stock of clothing, and had saved nearly all he had earned, including his advance for the West India voyage. At Havana Mr. Carboy had the misfortune to lose his watch overboard, and, as he needed one, Harvey had sold him his—a very good silver one—for twenty-five dollars.
"Now Mr. Carter, I want to pay you for what I've had," drawled Harvey, as he opened the diary, and exposed his worldly wealth.
"Pay me!" exclaimed John Carter, with something like horror in his tones and expression; "take any money from a brother sailor who has been wrecked! I don't know where you got such a bad opinion of me, but I would starve to death, and then be hung and froze to death, before I'd take a cent from you!"
"I am willing to pay for what I've had, and I shall be very much obliged to you besides," added Harvey.
"Not a red. Put up your money. I don't feel right to have you offer it, even," said the host, turning away his head.
"I've always paid my way so far; but I don't know how much longer I shall be able to do so. I'm very thankful to you and Mrs. Carter for what you've done, and I shall write it all down in my diary as soon as I get a chance."