ugh to the barque to make out her name through a
glass--the 'Monkshaven,' of Whitby--and we observed a puff of smoke
issue from her deck simultaneously with the arrival of our boat
alongside. In the course of a few minutes, the boat returned, bringing
the mate of the 'Monkshaven,' a fine-looking Norwegian, who spoke
English perfectly, and who reported his ship to be sixty-eight days
out from Swansea, bound for Valparaiso, with a cargo of smelting coal.
The fire had first been discovered on the previous Sunday, and by 6
a.m. on Monday the crew had got up their clothes and provisions on
deck, thrown overboard all articles of a combustible character, such
as tar, oil, paint, spare spars and sails, planks, and rope, and
battened down the hatches. Ever since then they had all been living on
deck, with no protection from the wind and sea but a canvas screen.
Tom and Captain Brown proceeded on board at once. They found the deck
more than a foot deep in water, and all a-wash; when the hatches were
opened for a moment dense clouds of hot suffocating yellow smoke
immediately poured forth, driving back all who stood near. From the
captain's cabin came volumes of poisonous gas, which had found its way
in through the crevices, and one man, who tried to enter, was rendered
insensible.

[Illustration: Monkshaven on Fire.]

It was perfectly evident that it would be impossible to save the ship,
and the captain therefore determined, after consultation with Tom and
Captain Brown, to abandon her. Some of the crew were accordingly at
once brought on board the 'Sunbeam,' in our boat, which was then sent
back to assist in removing the remainder, a portion of whom came in
their own boat. The poor fellows were almost wild with joy at getting
alongside another ship, after all the hardships they had gone through,
and in their excitement they threw overboard many things which they
might as well have kept, as they had taken the trouble to bring them.
Our boat made three trips altogether, and by half-past six we had them
all safe on board, with most of their effects, and the ship's
chronometers, charts, and papers.

The poor little dingy, belonging to the 'Monkshaven,' had been cast
away as soon as the men had disembarked from her, and there was
something melancholy in seeing her slowly drift away to leeward,
followed by her oars and various small articles, as if to rejoin the
noble ship she had so lately quitted. The latter was now hove-to,
und