overlooked, when Nicholas Nichols met with the hurt, as the anchor was leaving the bottom I never knew an accident happen at such a time and no evil come of it.  Then, had we a warning with the old man in the boat; besides the never-failing ill luck of sending the pilot violently out of the ship.  As if all this wasn’t enough, instead of taking a hint, and lying peaceably at our anchors, we got the ship under way, and left a safe and friendly harbour of a Friday, of all the days in a week![2] So far from being surprised at what has happened, I only wonder at finding myself still a living man; the reason of which is simply this, that I have given my faith where faith only is due, and not to unknown mariners and strange Commanders.  Had Edward Earing done the same, he might still have had a plank between him and the bottom; but, though half inclined to believe in the truth, he had, after all, too much leaning to superstition and credulity.”

[Footnote 2:  The superstition, that Friday is an evil day, was not peculiar to Nighthead; it prevails, more or less, among seamen to this hour.  An intelligent merchant of Connecticut had a desire to do his part in eradicating an impression that is sometimes inconvenient.  He caused the keel of a vessel to be laid on a Friday; she was launched on a Friday; named the “Friday;” and sailed on her first voyage on a Friday.  Unfortunately for the success of this well-intentioned experiment, neither vessel nor crew were ever again heard of!]

This laboured and characteristic profession of faith in the mate, though sufficiently intelligible to Wilder, was still a perfect enigma to his female listeners.  But Nighthead had not formed his resolution by halves, neither had he gone thus far, with any intention to stop short of the completion of his whole design.  In a very few summary words, he explained to Mrs Wyllys the desolate condition of the ship, and the utter improbability that she could continue to float many hours; since actual observation had told him that her lower hold was already half full of water.

“And what is then to be done?” demanded the governess, casting a glance of bitter distress towards the pallid and attentive Gertrude.  “Is there no sail in sight, to take us from the wreck? or must we perish in our helplessness!”

“God-protect us from anymore strange sails!” exclaimed the surly Nighthead.  “There we have the pinnace hanging at the stern, and here must be land at some forty leagues to the north-west.  Water and food are plenty, and twelve, stout hands can soon pull a boat to the continent of America; that is, always provided, America is left where it was seen no later than at the sun-set of yesterday.”

“You then propose to abandon the vessel?”

“I do.  The interest of the owners is dear to all good seamen, but life is sweeter than gold.”

“The will of heaven be done!  But surely you meditate no violence against this gentleman, who, I am quite certain, has governed the vessel, in very critical circumstances, with a discretion far beyond his years!”