roared, gathered,
and poured along like avalanches. Still, there was no hope for us but
in passing the line of these angry sentinels. Accordingly, I watched
the swell, and pulling firmly, bow on, into the first of the breakers,
we spun with such arrowy swiftness across the intervening space, that
I recollect nothing until we were clasped in the arms of the brawny
Belgians on the beach.

But, alas! the poor widow was no more. I cannot imagine when she died.
During the four hours of our passage from the wreck to land, her head
rested on my lap; yet no spasm of pain or convulsion marked the moment
of her departure.

That night the parish priest buried the unfortunate lady, and
afterwards carried round a plate, asking alms,--not for masses to
insure the repose of her soul,--but to defray the expenses of _the
living_ to Ostend.

CHAPTER III.

I had no time or temper to be idle. In a week, I was on board a Dutch
galliot, bound to Havana; but I soon perceived that I was again under
the command of two captains--male and female. The regular master
superintended the navigation, while the _bloomer_ controlled the whole
of us. Indeed, the dame was the actual owner of the craft, and, from
skipper to cabin-boy, governed not only our actions but our stomachs.
I know not whether it was piety or economy that swayed her soul, but I
never met a person who was so rigid as this lady in the observance of
the church calendar, especially whenever a day of abstinence allowed
her to deprive us of our beef. Nothing but my destitution compelled me
to ship in this craft; still, to say the truth, I had well-nigh given
up all idea of returning to the United States, and determined to
engage in any adventurous expedition that my profession offered. In
1824, it will be remembered, Mexico, the Spanish main, Peru, and the
Pacific coasts, were renowned for the fortunes they bestowed on
enterprise; and, as the galliot was bound to Havana, I hailed her as a
sort of floating bridge to my EL DORADO.

On the seventh night after our departure, while beating out of the bay
of Biscay with a six-knot breeze, in a clear moonlight, we ran foul of
a vessel which approached us on the opposite tack. Whence she sprang
no one could tell. In an instant, she appeared and was on us with a
dreadful concussion. Every man was prostrated on deck and all our
masts were carried away. From the other vessel we heard shrieks and a
cry of despair; but the ill-omened mi