moment before the boat touched the ground, a man leaped from her bows and caught me in his arms! It was Nickola!—­saying, “Do you now believe Nickola is your friend? yes, said he, Jamieson will yet prove himself so.”—­No words can express my emotions at this moment.  This was a friend indeed.  The reason of my not recognizing them before, was that they had cut their beards and whiskers.  Turning to my fellow-sufferers, Nickola asked—­“Are these all that are left of you? where are the others?”—­At this moment seeing David’s grave—­“are they dead then?  Ah!  I suspected it, I know what you were put here for.”  As soon as I could recover myself, I gave him an account of Mr. Bracket and the others.—­“How unfortunate,” he said, “they must be lost, or some pirates have taken them.”—­“But,” he continued, “we have no time to lose; you had better embark immediately with us, and go where you please, we are at your service.”  The other two in the boat were Frenchmen, one named Lyon, the other Parrikete.  They affectionately embraced each of us; then holding to my mouth the nose of a teakettle, filled with wine, said “Drink plenty, no hurt you.”  I drank as much as I judged prudent.  They then gave it to my fellow sufferers—­I experienced almost immediate relief, not feeling it in my head; they had also brought in the boat for us, a dish of salt beef and potatoes, of which we took a little.  Then sent the boat on board for the other two men, being five in all; who came ashore, and rejoiced enough was I to see among them Thomas Young, one of my crew, who was detained on board the Mexican, but had escaped through Nickola’s means; the other a Frenchman, named John Cadedt.  I now thought again and again, with troubled emotion, of my dear friend Bracket’s fate.  I took the last piece of paper I had, and wrote with pencil a few words, informing him (should he come there) that “I and the rest were safe; that I was not mistaken in the friend in whom I had placed so much confidence, that he had accomplished my highest expectations; and that I should go immediately to Trinidad, and requested him to go there also, and apply to Mr. Isaac W. Lord, my consignee, for assistance.”  I put the paper into a junk bottle, previously found on the beach, put in a stopper, and left it, together with what little flour remained, a keg of water brought from Nickola’s vessel, and a few other things which I thought might be of service to him.  We then repaired with our friends on board, where we were kindly treated.  She was a sloop from Jamaica, of about twelve tons, with a cargo of rum and wine, bound to Trinidad.  I asked “which way they intended to go?” They said “to Jamaica if agreeable to me.”  As I preferred Trinidad, I told them, “if they would give me the Exertion’s boat which was along-side (beside their own) some water and provisions, we would take chance in her.”—­“For perhaps,” said I, “you will fare better at Jamaica, than at Trinidad.”  After a few minutes consultation, they said “you are too