“It appears, then, Mr Jackson, that you knew that I was adrift,” replied the master, seriously, looking him steadfastly in the face.

“That is,”—­replied the mate, confused—­“I thought—­of course, seeing the boat was not alongside—­that you had drifted away in her:  how it happened—­of course, I know not.”

“I should trust, for your conscience’ sake, Mr Jackson, that you did not; however, here I am again, as you see, by the blessing of Providence, and the exertions of this young man, whom I must introduce to you as our second mate.”

Jackson cast an angry glance at Newton upon the conclusion of this speech.  The master had truly observed that it was strange the first mate did not hear him when he had hailed the brig for assistance.  The fact was, that Jackson had both heard him and seen him; but he was a wretch devoid of all feeling, who consulted nothing except his own interest.  He had made sure that the master would be carried out to sea, there to perish by a most miserable death, and that he would succeed in command of the vessel.  He was then going on shore to report the supposed “falling overboard” of the master:  which, as the brig was to sail as soon as the weather moderated, would have secured to him the command, and, at the same time, have put an end to the search which (should he have reported the truth) would immediately have taken place for the boat in which the master had been adrift.  Foiled in his hopes, by the courage of Newton, Jackson had already formed towards him a deadly hatred and determination of revenge.

That evening the wind abated, and the vessel sailed.  The ensuing morning she was clear of the sands, and a pilot-vessel off Holyhead having received the pilot, she steered down the Irish Channel to join a convoy for the West Indies, collecting at Falmouth.

Mr Berecroft, the master of the vessel, who has not hitherto been described, was a spare, light-built person, of about sixty years of age, still active, and a thorough seaman.  He had crossed the ocean for forty-five years, and his occasional narratives, as he walked the deck, or sat over his evening glass of grog, proved that his life must have been one of no ordinary variety and interest.  He was serious and rationally devout.  He checked all swearing from the men under his command, and rebuked it, although he could not prevent it, in the first mate; who, to annoy him, seldom made his appearance on deck without making use of some execration or another.  It was Mr Berecroft’s custom to call down the seamen into his cabin every evening, and read to them a short prayer; and, although this unusual ceremony often caused a leer in some of the newly-entered men, and was not only unattended but ridiculed by Jackson, still the whole conduct of Berecroft was so completely in unison, that even the most idle and thoughtless acknowledged that he was a good man, and quitted the ship with regret.  Such was Mr Berecroft; and we have little further to add, except that he was very superior to the generality of masters of merchant vessels.  His family, it was reported, were strict Quakers.