The mate gave the required orders; and about 3 p.m. the look-out reported an iceberg nearly ahead, and shortly after, that he observed a vessel of some sort close to it. As they approached, by aid of his telescope, the captain discerned a dismantled ship, apparently wedged into and frozen to the ice, and he was able to distinguish a good many human beings on it. Shortly after, he hove to, and sent out boats to the relief of the sufferers.
The vessel proved to be one from Quebec, bound to Liverpool, with passengers on board. She had become entangled in the ice, and finally frozen fast, and had been in this condition for several weeks. She was stove in, her decks swept, and was, in fact, a mere wreck. All her provisions and almost all her water had been consumed, and crew and passengers had despaired of being saved, and looked out for a watery grave. Their gratitude for this unexpected deliverance was proportionately great.
As one of the men, who had been brought away in the third boat that had reached the wreck, was ascending the ship’s side, the mate, catching a glimpse of his face, started back in astonishment. He recognized the identical face that he had seen in the cabin, three or four hours before, looking up at him from the captain’s desk. When the man stood on the deck, Bruce examined him closely. Not only was the face the same, but in person and dress he corresponded exactly with his vision.
So soon as the exhausted crew and passengers had been fed and cared for, and the bark was on her course again, the mate called the captain aside, and said, “That was no ghost, sir, that I saw this morning. The man is here, alive, and on board our boat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sir,” said Bruce very gravely. “One of the passengers we have just saved is the very same person that I saw writing on your slate at noon. I would swear to the identity in any court of justice.”
“This is becoming more strange and inexplicable every minute,” said the captain; “let us go and have a look at the man.”
They found him in conversation with the captain of the derelict vessel, when both expressed their warmest gratitude for deliverance from a terrible fate, either starvation and exposure, or drowning should the iceberg capsize.
The captain replied that he had done no more than was his duty, and that he was quite sure that they would have done the same for him under similar circumstances; and then he requested both to step down with him into his cabin.
When that was done, turning to the passenger he said: “Will you excuse the liberty I am taking with you, if I desire you to write a few words on the slate?”