I searched in vain. At last I met a
person whom I guessed to be an Englishman.
"Your captain do you ask for?" he answered. "Look there!"
Some police-officers stood at the door of a house. They allowed me to
enter. On the floor of a room at the side lay a body. A cloth covered
the face. I lifted it up. There I beheld all that remained of the
highly endowed Edward Newman, for by no other name did I know him. He
had been poisoned through fiery jealousy. A cup, in pretended
friendship, had been laughingly offered him. Unsuspiciously he had
drunk of it. The Government seized the murderess, who paid the penalty
of her crime with her life.
Thus died one who was well calculated to shine in the higher walks of
life. Who he was, whence he came, or even the slightest clue to his
previous history, I was never able to ascertain. In a strange land he
died, far away from kindred and friends--if, indeed, he had any--his
fate for ever unknown to them. Let this be a warning to those who hear
the sad conclusion of his history. The highest talents, and the most
undaunted courage and perseverance, will avail a man nothing, unless at
the same time he be under the guidance of principle.
The death of my friend threw me completely adrift, and I was glad to
find an opportunity of working my passage to England on board a ship
just going to sail for Liverpool.
Once more I stood on my native shore, a care-worn, weather-beaten man,
well advanced in years. On inquiring for the bank in which I had
invested the savings of my former voyage, I found that it had failed,
and that I was as poor as when I began the world, with this difference,
that I had a profession, and had bought a large amount of experience
with the money I had squandered--which is not always the case with
spend-thrifts.
I made inquiries for Captain Carr, but could hear nothing of him. As I
concluded that he had invested the money made by my last voyage in the
_Drake_, I supposed that also to have been lost by the bank. I thought
this a very great misfortune, as I wished to have settled on shore in
some business or other. Perhaps I might have chosen that of a publican,
as many sailors do. However, I had now no resource but to go to sea
again.
While in this humour I fell in with an old shipmate. We had been
together in the _Glutton_, and one or two other ships, so we knew each
other directly. He told me that he belonged to a revenue-cutter then
stati
|