at to look at it,
found her name on the cross-trees. We were, however, too much exhausted
to enter into much conversation. As soon as we had been supplied with
food, we were all put to bed in their hammocks; the first lieutenant
resigned his standing bed-place to me. A long sleep recovered me, and I
felt little the worse for what I had suffered, and sat down to a
breakfast at noon on the following day with a good appetite. The cutter
had, by my directions, shaped a course for the island of Heligoland,
where we should find means of returning to England.

"I have letters for you, Captain Keene," said the lieutenant, "if you
are well enough to read them."

"Thank you, Mr D---; I am now quite well, and will be happy to have
them."

The lieutenant brought me a large packet, and I took a position on the
sofa to read them comfortably while he went on deck. I first opened
those on service--those, of course, had little interest for me, now that
I had lost my ship--I skimmed them over, and then threw them on the
table one after another. There were three private letters from England,
one of which was in Lord de Versely's hand-writing; I opened it first.
It was very kind, but short, complaining that he had not been very well
lately. The second was from my mother. I read it; it contained nothing
of importance; and then I took up the third, which had a black seal. I
opened it; it was from Mr Warden, acquainting me that Lord de Versely
had expired very suddenly, on his return from the House of Lords, of an
ossification of the heart.

In my weak state this blow was too much for me, and I fainted. How long
I remained in that state I cannot say; but when I came to my senses I
found myself still down in the cabin. I rallied as well as I could, but
it was some time before I could take up the letter again, and finish it.
He stated that his lordship had left me all his personal property,
which was all that he could leave--that the library and wines were of
some value, and that there would be about a thousand pounds left at the
banker's, when the funeral expenses and debts had been paid. "Oh! if he
could but have left me his family name!" I cried, "it was all I
coveted. My father! my kind father! I may really say who will lament
your loss as I do?" I threw myself on the pillow of the sofa, and for a
long while shed bitter tears, not unmixed, I must own; for my grief at
his death was increased by my disappointment in having