should not have
overlooked, when Nicholas Nichols met with the hurt, as the anchor was
leaving the bottom I never knew an accident happen at such a time and no
evil come of it. Then, had we a warning with the old man in the boat;
besides the never-failing ill luck of sending the pilot violently out of
the ship. As if all this wasn't enough, instead of taking a hint, and
lying peaceably at our anchors, we got the ship under way, and left a safe
and friendly harbour of a Friday, of all the days in a week![2] So far
from being surprised at what has happened, I only wonder at finding myself
still a living man; the reason of which is simply this, that I have given
my faith where faith only is due, and not to unknown mariners and strange
Commanders. Had Edward Earing done the same, he might still have had a
plank between him and the bottom; but, though half inclined to believe in
the truth, he had, after all, too much leaning to superstition and
credulity."

[Footnote 2: The superstition, that Friday is an evil day, was not
peculiar to Nighthead; it prevails, more or less, among seamen to this
hour. An intelligent merchant of Connecticut had a desire to do his part
in eradicating an impression that is sometimes inconvenient. He caused
the keel of a vessel to be laid on a Friday; she was launched on a
Friday; named the "Friday;" and sailed on her first voyage on a Friday.
Unfortunately for the success of this well-intentioned experiment,
neither vessel nor crew were ever again heard of!]

This laboured and characteristic profession of faith in the mate, though
sufficiently intelligible to Wilder, was still a perfect enigma to his
female listeners. But Nighthead had not formed his resolution by halves,
neither had he gone thus far, with any intention to stop short of the
completion of his whole design. In a very few summary words, he explained
to Mrs Wyllys the desolate condition of the ship, and the utter
improbability that she could continue to float many hours; since actual
observation had told him that her lower hold was already half full of
water.

"And what is then to be done?" demanded the governess, casting a glance of
bitter distress towards the pallid and attentive Gertrude. "Is there no
sail in sight, to take us from the wreck? or must we perish in our
helplessness!"

"God-protect us from anymore strange sails!" exclaimed the surly
Nighthead. "There we have the pinnace hanging at the stern, and he