llow the
mainmast, when the stranger wielding a glittering axe, sprung, with the
agility of a young man, towards the stays and other ropes which held
them, and one after the other severed them. His example was followed by
Mr Gale and the crew, and in a shorter time than it has taken to
describe the scene, we were freed from our huge destroyer. She went
away to leeward, and very soon met her fate.

Still the hurricane raged on. We were not safe, for other vessels might
drive against us. However, our next work was to clear the wreck. No
one was more active in this than the stranger. At first we thought that
the captain was dead; but the news spread that, though much injured, he
was still alive. Almost blinded by the spray and rain and vivid
lightning, the crew worked on. At length the storm ceased almost as
suddenly as it had begun; but words cannot describe the scenes of
destruction which were presented to our eyes on every side, wrecks
strewed the shore, and the plantations inland seemed but masses of ruin.
Night at last came, and the ship was made snug. When I went on deck
early in the morning, I looked about for the stranger. Neither he nor
his black attendant, nor his chests and boat were to be found. Yet it
was declared that no one had seen them leave the ship! This
unaccountable disappearance made all hands wonder still more who the
mysterious stranger could be. Such was my first introduction to the
West Indies.

CHAPTER FOUR.

THE RETURN HOME.

"Hurrah! hurrah! Erin-go-bragh!" Such were the cries which the Irish
part of our crew uttered, and in which I through sympathy joined, as
once more the capstan was manned, and the anchor being hove up, and the
topsails sheeted home, we made sail for Dublin. We had been longer than
usual at Kingston; for the damage the brig had received in the
hurricane, and the illness of the captain, which impeded the collection
of freight, had much delayed us. In reality our return home brought
very little satisfaction to me. I had no friends to see, no one to care
for me. I therefore remained on board to assist the ship-keeper; and
the whole time we were in the Dublin dock I scarcely ever set my foot on
shore.

The same thing occurred after my second voyage. I did not attempt to
form a friendship with anyone. Not that I was of a sulky disposition;
but I was not inclined to make advances, and no one offered me his
friendship. The ship-keeper, old Pat Hagan