“Where am I?”

“Aboard the brig Eliza, Liverpool, homeward bound; glad to see them eyes open.”

“Have I been here long?”

“Matter o’ ten days.”

Where did you find me

Floating in a hen-coop; thought you was a dead ‘un.”

“Do you know what ship?”

“Do we know? No, that’s what you’ve got to tell us!”

“I can’t,” I sighed, too weak to wag my head upon the pillow.

The man went to my cabin door.

“Here’s a go,” said he; “forgotten the name of his blessed ship, he has. Where’s that there paper, Mr.


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their children into the kindly ocean, and jumped in after them out of their torment, locked for ever in each other’s arms.

Yes! I saw more things on that starry night, by that blood-red glare, than I have told you in their order, and more things than I shall tell you now. Blind would I gladly be for


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