Newton was the more collected of the two, for Jackson’s insensibility had been occasioned by bodily—­his, by mental concussion.  The effect of the blow was still felt by Jackson; and although recovered from the stupor, a dull, heavy sensation affected his eyesight, and confused his ideas.

The sight of Newton went far to recover Jackson, who started up as if to grapple with the object of his hatred.  Newton was on his legs at the same moment, and retreating, seized upon the handspike, which lay on the deck, close to where Jackson had been struck down, and placed himself in an attitude of defence.  Not a word was exchanged between them.  They remained a few seconds in this position, when Jackson, whose brain was again affected by the violence of his feelings, dropped down upon the deck in a renewed state of insensibility.

Newton had now time to look about him; and the prospect was anything but cheering.  It was almost low water; and in every direction he perceived reefs of coral rock, and large banks of sand, with deep channels between them, through which the tide flowed rapidly.  The reef upon which the brig had been grounded was of sharp coral; and, in the deeper parts, the trees could be discerned, extending a submarine forest of boughs; but it was evident that the reef upon which the vessel lay was, as well as most of the others, covered at high water.  As a means of escape, a small boat was still hanging over the stern, which Newton was able to manage either with her sails or her oars, as might be required.

As there was no time to be lost, and the only chance of escape remained with the boat, Newton commenced his arrangements.  The mast and sails were found, and the latter bent;—­a keg was filled with water,—­a compass taken out of the binnacle,—­a few pieces of beef, and some bread, collected in a bag and thrown in.  He also procured some bottles of wine and cider from the cabin:  these he stowed away carefully in the little locker, which was fitted under the stern-sheets of the boat.  In an hour everything was ready; and throwing into her some pieces of spare rope, and a small grapnel to anchor with, there being still sufficient water alongside to float her, Newton gradually lowered one tackle and then another, until the boat was safe in the water.  He then hauled her up alongside, made her fast by the painter, and stepped her mast.

All was now ready—­but to leave Jackson to be washed away by the returning tide, when the brig would unquestionably go to pieces!—­Newton could not do it.  True, he had sought his life, and still displayed the most inveterate rancour towards him; and Newton felt convinced that no future opportunity would occur that his enemy would not profit by, to insure his destruction.  Yet to leave him—­a murderer!—­with all his sins upon his soul, to be launched so unprepared into the presence of an offended Creator!—­it was impossible—­it was contrary to his nature and to the religion which he professed.  How could he hope for the Divine assistance in his perilous undertaking, when he embarked on it, regardless of the precept to forgive his enemy?