ena would make a dash at them,' thought I; and with
difficulty could I refrain from uttering the words aloud.

They continued to talk to each other in low whispers, and, lulled by the
drowsy tones, I fell asleep once more, again to dream of my comrades and
their fortunes. A heavy bang like a cannon-shot awoke me; but whether
this were real or not I never knew; most probably, however, it was the
mere creation of my brain, for all were now in deep slumber around me,
and even the marine on duty had seated himself on the ladder, and with
his musket between his legs, seemed dozing away peacefully. I looked out
through the little window beside my berth. A light breeze was
faintly rippling the dark water beneath me. It was the beginning of a
'Levanter,' and scarcely ruffled the surface as it swept along.

'Oh, if it would but bear the tidings I am full of!' thought I. 'But why
not dare the attempt myself?' While in America I had learned to become
a good swimmer. Under Indian teaching, I had often passed hours in the
water; and though now debilitated by long sickness, I felt that the
cause would supply me with the strength I needed. From the instant that
I conceived the thought, till I found myself descending the ship's side,
was scarcely a minute. Stripping off my woollen shirt, and with nothing
but my loose trousers, I crept through the little window, and lowering
myself gently by the rattlin of my hammock, descended slowly and
noiselessly into the sea. I hung on thus for a couple of seconds, half
fearing the attempt, and irresolute of purpose. Should strength fail, or
even a cramp seize me, I must be lost, and none would ever know in what
an enterprise I had perished. It would be set down as a mere attempt
at escape. This notion almost staggered my resolution, but only for a
second or so; and with a short prayer, I slowly let slip the rope, and
struck out to swim.

The immense efforts required to get clear of the ship's side discouraged
me dreadfully, nor probably without the aid of the 'Levanter' should I
have succeeded in doing so, the suction of the water along the sides was
so powerful. At last, however, I gained the open space, and found myself
stretching away towards shore rapidly. The night was so dark that I had
nothing to guide me save the lights on the ramparts; but in this lay my
safety. Swimming is, after all, but a slow means of progression. After
what I judged to be an hour in the water, as I turned my head to