to return to the Charon.

Taking all things into consideration I resolved to follow this course,
and with a heavy heart ordered the people into the jolly-boat. I was
the last man to quit the ship, and as I went down the side I certainly
did not expect to see her afloat the next morning. I had no time,
however, for sentimental regrets, for the sea was getting up, the sky
was looking very wild and windy, and darkness was fast coming on. The
boat also was much overcrowded. We, however, left the Leviathan's side
without an accident, and pulled slowly towards the Charon. She lay
across the sea, and was rolling considerably when we got near her. We
pulled up under her quarter. The bowman stood up, boat-hook in hand, to
catch hold of the rope hove to us, when, losing his balance, he was
pitched overboard. In vain his mates forward tried to catch hold of
him; the next sea, probably, struck his head against the ship's side,
and he sank from our sight. While we were endeavouring to save him,
indeed, the boat herself very nearly capsized, when probably all or most
of us in her would have lost our lives. Happily, however, as it was, we
managed to scramble on board, and the jolly-boat was hoisted up safe.

The commodore, as did my brother-officers, complimented me very much on
what I had done, but as I had been left alone, I thought very unfairly,
in my glory, I cannot say that I valued their compliments at a very high
rate. I knew that I had done my duty at all events, and that was enough
for me. Captain Luttrell, however, of his own accord agreed to remain
by the Leviathan till the morning, in the hopes of being able to get
more of her cargo out of her. Out of spirits at the loss of so many
poor fellows, and after all at having done so little, I entered the
gun-room. Supper was placed before me; I could scarcely touch it.
Getting rid of my wet clothes, I threw myself at last into my berth, and
scarcely had my head touched my pillow than I was fast asleep. Still
the thought of the Leviathan haunted me, and I continued dreaming of the
scenes I had gone through during the time I had been on board her. At
last I awoke, and, slipping on my clothes, found my way on deck. There
she lay--a dark, misty-looking object--rolling away even more violently
than before, so it seemed to me. Still she was afloat, and while she
remained above water I still had hopes of saving more of her cargo. As
I gazed at her a strange sensati