Late in the afternoon of Wednesday the ship was towed down the river to Shadwell Basin, and word was passed around that she would sail early next morning.
About 7 o'clock in the evening a meeting of the Saints was held on the deck. There were some good, soul-stirring hymns sung, and addresses were delivered by Elders John Nicholson and N. H. Felt.
While the services were in progress quite a crowd of spectators were viewing us from the shore, and among them was a short, stout man, who gazed intently at Richard and I.
After the meeting was over we both went below to our bunk, where we anxiously awaited the morrow to come, when we would be out on the ocean beyond all danger of pursuit. The ship was well filled with passengers —every berth being taken.
Early next morning we were up in good time. I walked about the cabin and on the deck with a feeling of gloom over me. I told Richard of my foreboding of something unpleasant, but what it was I could not tell. The sailors were busy preparing for the long voyage, and we expected soon to start.
About half past 7 o'clock I went off the ship to get a supply of water. Returning, I came near to where Richard was on deck, and said:
"Here's the water; now let's go and get breakfast."
No sooner had I said these words than a noise occurred in the gangway, and the next moment a voice cried out:
"That's one of them!"
I had hardly time to turn around when a rough hand seized me by the collar. The next words I heard were: