ew York and the West
Indian ports. His career was not as fortunate as mine had been, and
when, after eight years of a seaman's adventurous life, he was
rewarded for his faithful devotion by the hand of the woman whom he
loved, he was no richer than my father had left him. Ellen had made
two voyages with him--one just after their marriage, and one two years
later, after their baby died. John lost money on this last trip, but
was steadily repairing his fortunes when, about a year before our
meeting, he lost his ship and cargo off the coast of Newfoundland,
barely escaping with his crew by the assistance of a fishing-vessel
which had answered their signal of distress. This misfortune had
reduced him to very straitened circumstances, and he had left his wife
with five little ones at home, hoping for a successful venture in this
voyage to the Cape, every guinea of his capital having been invested
in a half interest in the Ellen and her cargo. There was nothing to
require our attention, as our ships were lying as still and
motionless, but for the drift, as if riding at anchor in a road-stead;
so we talked together until the steward announced dinner, and after
that adjourned to the after-deck with a box of cigars and a bottle of
wine, where we resumed our conversation. The weather continued
unchanged, and I shall never forget the quiet happiness of those hours
as we sat under the awning looking at the Cape pigeons and schools of
flying-fish, and chatting about the pleasant memories of our boyish
days. It was near sunset when John Alford asked me to signal his boat,
and soon afterward he left the Ariadne. We both expected the wind to
rise during the night, but intended keeping our ships together until
next day, and so made all our arrangements for signaling, so that we
might not part company in the darkness.

"When I went below I met Kelson at the cabin door. 'The barometer's
taken a start downward, sir,' said he: 'we shall have nasty weather
before morning.'

"'It is very likely,' I answered, 'but I think the old ship can stand
some weather. Set the watches with two good men in each, and have
everything snug for a blow.'

"'Ay, ay, sir!' answered the careful fellow: 'all that's done already.
I've seen these South Atlantic calms before now. The sails are all
clewed up and the useless spars sent down: the boats are secured, the
movables all double lashed, and the storm-staysails made ready to bend
on.'

"'Then we shall onl