t down with it, we still entertained faint hopes of saving ourselves
in the boats. At eight P. M., the clouds broke away to windward, and we
had the advantage of a full moon--a piece of good fortune which served
wonderfully to cheer our drooping spirits.

After incredible labor we succeeded, at length, in getting the longboat
over the side without material accident, and into this we crowded
the whole of the crew and most of the passengers. This party made off
immediately, and, after undergoing much suffering, finally arrived, in
safety, at Ocracoke Inlet, on the third day after the wreck.

Fourteen passengers, with the captain, remained on board, resolving
to trust their fortunes to the jolly-boat at the stern. We lowered it
without difficulty, although it was only by a miracle that we prevented
it from swamping as it touched the water. It contained, when afloat, the
captain and his wife, Mr. Wyatt and party, a Mexican officer, wife, four
children, and myself, with a negro valet.

We had no room, of course, for any thing except a few positively
necessary instruments, some provisions, and the clothes upon our backs.
No one had thought of even attempting to save any thing more. What must
have been the astonishment of all, then, when having proceeded a few
fathoms from the ship, Mr. Wyatt stood up in the stern-sheets, and
coolly demanded of Captain Hardy that the boat should be put back for
the purpose of taking in his oblong box!

"Sit down, Mr. Wyatt," replied the captain, somewhat sternly, "you will
capsize us if you do not sit quite still. Our gunwhale is almost in the
water now."

"The box!" vociferated Mr. Wyatt, still standing--"the box, I say!
Captain Hardy, you cannot, you will not refuse me. Its weight will
be but a trifle--it is nothing--mere nothing. By the mother who bore
you--for the love of Heaven--by your hope of salvation, I implore you to
put back for the box!"

The captain, for a moment, seemed touched by the earnest appeal of the
artist, but he regained his stern composure, and merely said:

"Mr. Wyatt, you are mad. I cannot listen to you. Sit down, I say, or you
will swamp the boat. Stay--hold him--seize him!--he is about to spring
overboard! There--I knew it--he is over!"

As the captain said this, Mr. Wyatt, in fact, sprang from the boat, and,
as we were yet in the lee of the wreck, succeeded, by almost superhuman
exertion, in getting hold of a rope which hung from the fore-chains. In
anothe