Chapter 1

--"But I'll not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it;
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove;
Mend when thou canst--"

Lear.

It is almost as impossible to describe minutely what occurred on the
boat's reaching the Wallingford, as to describe all the terrific incidents
of the struggle between Drewett and myself in the water. I had sufficient
perception, however, to see, as I was assisted on board by Mr. Hardinge
and Neb, that Lucy was not on deck. She had probably gone to join Grace,
with a view to be in readiness for meeting the dire intelligence that was
expected. I afterwards learned that she was long on her knees in the
after-cabin, engaged in that convulsive prayer which is apt to accompany
sudden and extreme distress in those who appeal to God in their agony.

During the brief moments, and they were but mere particles of time, if one
can use such an expression, in which my senses could catch anything beyond
the horrid scene in which I was so closely engaged, I had heard shrill
screams from the lungs of Chloe; but Lucy's voice had not mingled in the
outcry. Even now, as we were raised, or aided, to the deck, the former
stood, with her face glistening with tears, half convulsed with terror and
half expanding with delight, uncertain whether to laugh or to weep,
looking first at her master and then at her own admirer, until her
feelings found a vent in the old exclamation of "der feller!"

It was fortunate for Andrew Drewett that a man of Post's experience and
steadiness was with us. No sooner was the seemingly lifeless body on
board, than Mr. Hardinge ordered the water-cask to be got out; and he and
Marble would have soon been rolling the poor fellow with all their might,
or holding him up by the heels, under the notion that the water he had
swallowed must be got out of him, before he could again breathe; but the
authority of one so high in the profession soon put a stop to this.
Drewett's wet clothes were immediately removed, blankets were warmed at
the galley, and the most judicious means were resorted to, in order to
restore the circulation. The physician soon detected signs of life, and,
ordering all but one or two assistants to leave the spot, in ten minutes
Drewett was placed in a warm bed, and might be considered out of danger.

The terrific scene enacted so directly before his eyes, produced an effect
on the _Albon_-ny man, who consented to haul aft his main-sheet, lower his
studding-sail and top-sail, come by the wind, stand across to the
Wallingford, heave-to, and lower a boat. This occurred just as Drewett was
taken below; and, a minute later, old Mrs. Drewett and her two daughters,