My first proceeding was to go on deck and take an observation of our position. The result of this observation was to show me, beyond all doubt, that we were then distant about seventy-two hours' sail from the coast of the larger island; whereupon, I yielded to a temptation stronger than my will or my reason, and changed the ship's

course.

That decisive step once taken, I fell into a state of feverish eagerness which allowed me no rest of body or mind. I could neither sleep, nor eat, nor sit still, nor remain in one spot for three minutes together. I went up to the masthead twenty times a day on the look-out for land; and raged against the fog, as if it were sent from heaven on purpose to torment me. My seamen thought I was mad, and so I was. Mad with the thirst of gain, as many a sane man has been before and since.

At length, on the morning of the third day, Aaron Taylor came to me in my cabin, and ventured on a respectful remonstrance. We had already deviated, he said, two degrees from our course, and were making straight for the Bahama islands, instead of for Jamaica. Had we kept steadily on our way, we should have shortly touched at Porto Rico for provisions and water; but both were running short, and could not possibly hold out for anything like the time it would take us to make land in the present direction. In reply to this statement, I showed my chart with the two islands sketched in according to their bearings.

He looked at them, shook his head, and said very earnestly," I have sailed in these latitudes for the last fifteen years, your honour, and I'll take my Bible oath there are no such islands."

Whereupon I flew into a violent fit of anger, as if the mate had presumed to doubt my word, and forbade him ever to speak to me on the subject again. My temper, in short, was as much impaired as my peace of mind, or, indeed, as my sense of duty; and gold, accursed gold, was at the bottom of it all.

Thus the third day passed on, and still the fog hung round and seemed to follow us. The seamen did their work sullenly, and whispered together when my back was turned. The mate looked pale and grave, like a man whose mind was full of anxious thoughts. For my part, I was more resolute than ever, and silently vowed to shoot the first sailor who showed a sign of mutiny. To this end I cleaned and primed my pistols, and hid a Spanish dagger between my waistcoat and my belt. Thus the long, monotonous hours went by, and the sun sank, and yet no land, or indication of land, had appeared on any side.

Sixty-five hours out of the seventy-two had now gone by, and it seemed as if the remaining seven would never expire. To sleep was

impossible; so I paced the deck all night, and watched as eagerly for the first gleam of dawn as if my life depended on it. As the morning drew nearer, my excitement became almost more than I could bear. I even felt as if I would gladly have put off the moment which I had been so passionately awaiting.

At length the eastward grey grew visibly lighter, and was followed by a broad crimson flush all across the heavens. I went up aloft, trembling in every limb. As I reached the top-gallant-mast, the sun rose. I closed my eyes, and for a moment dared not look around me.

When I opened them again, I saw the fog lying all over the calm surface of the sea in fleecy tracts of vapour, like half-transparent snow; and straight ahead, distant some ten miles or so in a direct line, a pale blue peak rising above the level of the mist. At the sight of that peak my heart gave a great leap, and my head turned giddy; for I recognized it instantly as the mountain mapped out between the bay and western coast of the larger island.

As soon as I could command my agitation sufficiently, I pulled out a pocket-glass, and surveyed it narrowly. The glass only confirmed the evidence of my eyes. I then came down, intoxicated with success, and triumphantly bade Taylor go aloft and report all that he should see. The mate obeyed, but declared that there was nothing visible but sky and fog.

I was enraged. I would not believe him. I sent the boy up, and then one of the seamen, and both returned with the same story. At last I went up again myself, and found that they were right. The fog had risen with the rising of the sun, and the peak had utterly disappeared. All this, however, made no real difference. The land was there; I had seen it; and we were sailing for it, right before the wind. In the meantime, I caused the ship's boat to be got ready, directed that a bag of biscuit, a keg of brandy, a couple of cutlasses, a couple of muskets, a couple of sacks, and a good store of ammunition should be thrown into it, and provided myself with a pocket-compass, tinderbox, hatchet, and small telescope. I then took a slip of parchment, and having written upon it the name and destination of the Mary-Jane, together with the date of the year and month, and my own signature as her captain, inclosed the whole in a stout glass bottle, sealed it down with my own seal, and stowed it away in the boat with the rest of the stores. This bottle, and a small union-jack which I tied round my waist like a sash, were destined to be hoisted on the mountain-top as soon as we succeeded in climbing up to it.

(To be continued.)

THE STORY OF "THE FLOWERY LAND."

OWARDS the end of July, 1863, the good merchant-ship the Flowery Land, belonging to Mr. William Kerr, of the Poultry, London, lay in the docks at London, ready to sail for Singapore, with a cargo consisting of wines and other merchandise; but although the freight was aboard and the vessel ready for sea, yet it was a matter of some difficulty to find a crew to man her, for it was the intention of the owner to ship the goods to the port of Singapore, and there to dispose of the vessel and turn the crew adrift. As a natural consequence, no English sailor would agree to go on board, and Captain John Smith was obliged to content himself with a motley crew of foreigners, who were quite able to navigate the vessel under the direction of the petty officers, both of whom were Englishmen. Thus on the 28th of July the Flowery Land left England with a crew of twenty persons, made up as follows:-Captain John Smith and his brother George, who went out as a passenger; Carswell, the first mate; the steward; William Taffer, second mate and boatswain; a Norwegian carpenter, named Michael Anderson; James Early, the ship-boy; a Chinese as cook, Aboo the lamp-boy (also a Chinese), and the following sailors :-Frank Candereau, a Frenchman; two Spaniards, named José Williams and Frank Powell; two Greeks, Marcos Vartos, alias Watto, and George Carlos; and six Malays-John Lyons, Francisco Blanco, Ambrosio Duranno, Basilio de los Santos, Marchelino, and Miguel Lopez, alias Joseph Chancis, or the Catalan.

Down the channel all went well. Occasionally the men lagged in their work, and were punished accordingly; but there was no sign of serious insubordination. On the deck was a house in which there were four compartments. The six Malays, together with the two Greeks and Spaniards, occupied one on the port side, and on the starboard side forward lodged the carpenter, Candereau, and James Early, the ship's boy. Below, on the port side of the companion, were the berths of the first and second