ne, amongst hundreds swayed by jarring
interests and contending passions.

And yet he was in keeping, although in such strong contrast, with the
rest of the picture; for where is the instance of the human mind being
so thoroughly depraved as not to have one good feeling left? Nothing
exists so base and vile as not to have one redeeming quality. There is
no poison without some antidote--no precipice, however barren, without
some trace of verdure, no desert, however vast, without some spring to
refresh the parched traveller, some oasis, some green spot, which, from
its situation, in comparison with surrounding objects, appears almost
heavenly; and thus did the boy look almost angelic, standing as he did
between the angry exasperated parties on the main-deck of the
disorganised ship.

After some little time he walked forward, and leaned against one of the
twenty-four pounders that was pointed out of the embrasure, the muzzle
of which was on a level with, and intercepted by, his little head.

Adams, the quarter-master, observing the dangerous situation of the
child, stepped forward. This was against the stipulations laid down by
the mutineers, and Peters cried out to him--"Heave-to, Adams, or we
fire!" Adams waved his hand in expostulation, and continued to advance.
"Keep back," again cried Peters, "or, by God, we fire!"

"Not upon one old man, Peters, and he unarmed," replied Adams; "I'm not
worth so much powder and shot." The man at the gun blew his match.
"For God's sake, for your own sake, as you value your happiness and
peace of mind, do not fire, Peters!" cried Adams, with energy, "or
you'll never forgive yourself."

"Hold fast the match," said Peters; "we need not fear our man," and as
he said this, Adams had come up to the muzzle of the gun, and seized the
boy, whom he snatched up in his arms.

"I only came forward, Peters, to save your own boy, whose head would
have been blown to atoms if you had chanced to have fired the gun," said
Adams, turning short round, and walking aft with the boy in his arms.

"God in heaven bless you, Adams!" cried Peters, with a faltering voice,
and casting a look of fond affection at the child. The heart of the
mutineer was at that moment softened by parental feelings, and he blew
the priming off the touch-hole of the gun, lest an accidental spark
should risk the life of his child, who was now aft with the officers and
their party.

Reader, this little boy will be the her