have lost half my heart." "If we do not sail
to-morrow," replied they, "we will go on shore and see whether she
deserves the appellation you have given her." "Do," said I, "and give my
love to her."

At daylight our signal was made to remain at anchor until further orders.
On sending the last boat on shore for the officers, I ordered the
midshipman who had charge of her to acquaint my messmates not to bring off
any strangers to dinner, as no boat would leave the ship after they
returned. About 3 P.M. the boat came on board, and, in contradiction to my
order, brought off a stranger. The second lieutenant was first up the
side, and the stranger followed. On his reaching the quarter-deck, he
introduced him to me as a person sent off by the admiral as a broker to
exchange English for foreign coin. He gave me his card, which I put into
my pocket without looking at it. I began by telling him he had come on
board at a very inconvenient time, and that, in consequence of the spring
tide, the boat would not leave the ship until the morning. "It is of
little consequence to me," said he, very coolly; "I can remain where I am
until that time." "Respecting the errand you have come on," I resumed, "I
am afraid you will be disappointed, as two persons have already been
before you." "How came you," said I to the youngster who had charge of the
boat, "to disobey the order I gave you?" Before he could answer the
surgeon came up and whispered to me, "It is your brother." I examined his
countenance more closely. He gave me one of his schoolboy grins and his
hand, and then I was convinced. We had not seen each other for nearly nine
years, and he had grown entirely out of my recollection. I did not give
him the fraternal hug, but I shook him affectionately by the hand and told
him I should not part with him until we reached Deptford, to which he
willingly consented. He acquainted me with all family concerns, and that
my mother was waiting in London, anxious to see me.

The following day we received on board eighteen French prisoners for the
prison-ships in the river. We wished them at Jericho, where the man fell
among those who used him worse than a Turk would have done. The same
afternoon we daylighted the anchor, mastheaded the sails, crested the
briny wave like a Yankee sea-serpent, and on the second day let go no fool
of a piece of crooked iron off dirty Deptford. As orders were received to
pay us off, we were fully occupied for nearly a