“I kissed off the tears that were trembling on her eyelids, and in brief but eloquent language expressed the love with which my heart was overflowing. The packet contained a sum of money amply sufficient for our purposes. Having by letter previously apprised my family of these circumstances, they delayed their departure; and after providing every thing that was necessary for the wants of agricultural emigrants, we all set sail from the populous seaport Kangarootown, in a magnificent ship fitted up in the most splendid manner, and carrying more than three hundred passengers.”
“‘No!’ exclaimed half a dozen anxious listeners, starting up with horror and surprise.
“’Tis true!” replied the young man, in a voice scarcely audible.
“The Lord ha’ mercy on their miserable souls!” said Hearty.
“We had not been many days out at sea,” continued the narrator, “and were busily and cheerfully employed in forming plans for the future, when one evening, as soon as we had all retired to our berths, the gas with which the interior of the ship was lighted, through some carelessness had been suffered to escape, and it having caught fire, the first alarm the passengers received was from finding themselves surrounded by flames. There were but two or three boats belonging to the vessel, to which there was immediately a general rush. Without waiting to secure any of my property, I instantly hurried on deck with Optima, and was so fortunate as to secure her and myself a place in the largest boat. I shouted to my father and my brothers to join us, but as soon as we were full the rope was cut, and we pulled from the burning ship with all the strength of desperate men. As the flames rose up into the rigging we could see hundreds running backwards and forwards, bewildered and stupified by fear. One after another jumped into the remaining boats, into which they crowded so rapidly that their own weight at once sunk them to the bottom. Others in their frenzy leapt into the sea—the rest retreated from the flames as they advanced, shrieking their own knell, till the fire beginning to scorch their flesh they fell over into the waves, or letting go their grasp of the ropes up which they had climbed, sunk yelling with agony into the midst of the raging fire. I saw nothing of my brothers. I imagine they perished in the smaller boats. But while observing the destruction of the ship, I beheld, high up the tallest mast, the figure of an old man—his white hair scorched upon his brows—his blood-shot eyes bursting from their sockets—his trembling limbs clinging to the rigging, screaming for mercy and for help. I knew the form—the voice pierced my brain. I would have leapt into the sea with the wild but fruitless hope of hastening to his rescue, but I was forcibly held to my seat; and Optima, who had not changed her position since I placed her in the boat, with her face upon my breast and her arms round my neck, clung to me trembling with terror. In a moment afterwards the flaming vessel disappeared.
“We could scarcely congratulate ourselves upon our safety, for although we had escaped being burnt to death, there seemed but little hope of our being saved from drowning, or from starvation. There were thirty of us closely packed together, not one of whom knew exactly how far we were from land; few were clothed, and none had either provisions or water. My feelings were of the most agonising description. I had seen my family perish before my eyes without having the ability to render them the slightest assistance—all their property and mine—all that the loving kindness of Optima had enabled me to procure for our future wants, were swallowed up in the devouring fire, and now I was left with her upon the boundless ocean enjoying no other hope than that we should perish together. Bitter as my reflections were, they grew almost insupportable when I considered with what a dreadful fate the devotion of her I loved would be rewarded. But she whose goodness had been thus cruelly turned to evil seemed to think of nothing, and care for nothing, but for him to whom she clung. At this instant when we were giving ourselves up to despair, a light blazing from your ship proclaimed to us the joyful intelligence that assistance was at hand. Then what a change came upon us. The murmurs of complaint were turned to the loud shouts of gladness; and so completely did we enter into the spirit of the moment, that none noticed the rapid approach of the ship coming to our relief, till she was just upon us.
“We are saved, dearest!” I whispered.
“Optima unclasped her arms, and took one of my hands in hers. Then came the overwhelming crush of the great ship—a shout—a scream—and her keel passed over us. The shock came so unexpected that none had time to think of the danger, and we were gasping and struggling in the water before we were aware of the accident. I made a snatch at what I thought was the sinking form of Optima, but soon I found out the dreadful mistake. It was a strong man, who being no swimmer caught hold of my limbs with a desperate grasp that nothing but death could relax. In vain I strove to shake him off—I struggled—I fought—I kicked in vain. He held me as a serpent holds its prey. The thought of my beloved sinking into the bowels of the great deep, deserted by him whose happiness she had ever striven to secure, nerved my arms with a giant’s strength, and catching the drowning wretch by the throat, I squeezed the breath out of his miserable body, hurled him from me as if he had been a loathsome reptile, and then struck out into the sea, swimming in various directions, shouting her name in every tone of agony—plunging, diving, and beating the waters with the fierce energy of a madman. My heart sunk within me—my strength was exhausted. I felt the terrible conviction, that for me there was no hope—and resigned myself to the cold embraces of the relentless wave. Of what afterwards occurred I know not, till I found myself on board the Albatross, recovered from the jaws of death by the kind and unceasing attention of her friendly crew. But do not think me ungrateful, when, reflecting upon the dreadful loss I have endured, and the wretched fate to which I have been left, I express a regret that my life has been spared.”
“Scrunch me, if I ar’nt springing a leak as no pump can stop!” exclaimed Climberkin, as soon as the stranger had concluded his narrative, as he wiped with his knuckles the big tears out of the corners of his eyes;—an example which was followed by many of his shipmates.
“May I go to sea in a cockle shell, if ever I heard o’ any thin’ so cruel molloncholy,” said Boggle; “my eyes are like sieves catching a thunder shower. But a fellow who can listen to such a tarnation heart-twister as this here without runnin’ out like a water spout, must have the soul o’ a nigger.”