On the twelfth morning, at daybreak, the hailing of some one from the deck electrified us all.  Supposing, as we had missed none of our shipmates from the top, that it must be some boat or vessel, we all eagerly made a movement to answer our supposed deliverers, and such was our excitement that it well nigh upset what little reason we had left.  We soon found out our mistake.  We saw that one of the party was missing; and from this individual, whom we had found without shoes, hat, or jacket, had the voice proceeded.

Despair had now taken such complete hold, that, suspended between life and death, a torpor had seized us, and, resigned to our fate, we had scarcely sufficient energy to lift our heads, and exercise the only faculty on which depended our safety.  The delirium of our unfortunate shipmate had, however, reanimated us, and by this means, through Providence, he was made instrumental to our deliverance.  Not long after, one of the men suddenly exclaimed, “This is Sunday morning!—­The Lord will deliver us from our distress!—­at any rate I will take a look round.”  With this he arose, and having looked about him a few minutes, the cheering cry of “a sail!” announced the fulfilment of this singular prophecy.  “Yes,” he repeated in answer to our doubts, “a sail, and bearing right down upon us!”

We all eagerly got up, and looking in the direction indicated to us, the welcome certainty, that we were not cheated of our hopes almost turned our brains.  The vessel, which proved to be a Boston brig, bound to London, ran down across our bows, hove too, sent the boats alongside, and by ten o’clock we were all safe on board.  Singularly enough, our brig, which had been lying-to with her head to the northward and westward, since the commencement of our disasters, went about the evening previous to our quitting her as well as if she had been under sail,—­another providential occurrence, for had she remained with her head to the northward, we should have seen nothing of our deliverers.  From the latter we experienced all the care and attention our deplorable condition required; and, with the exception of two of the party, who were frost-bitten, and who died two days after our quitting the wreck, we were soon restored to health, and reached St. Catherine’s Dock on the 30th of the following month.

[Illustration:  VOYAGE OF THE ABERGAVENNY.]

LOSS OF THE ABERGAVENNY.

The Earl of Abergavenny, East Indiaman, left Portsmouth, in the beginning of February, 1805, with forty passengers, and property to the value of eighty-nine thousand pounds sterling on board.  On the 5th of February, at ten A.M. when she was about ten leagues to the westward of Portland, the commodore gave a signal for her to bear up.  At this time the wind was west south-west; she had the main top-mast struck, the fore and mizzen top-gallant mast on deck, and the jib-boom in.  At three a pilot came on board, when they were about