The Survivors of the Chancellor
Jules Verne

Part 4 out of 4

Falsten, Dowlas, and the boatswain, made a rush that at
least they might secure the body; but it was too late; all
that they could see was a crimson circle in the water, and
some huge sharks disporting themselves around the spot.


JANUARY 23. -- Only eleven of us now remain; and the
probability is very great that every day must now carry off
at least its one victim, and perhaps more. The end of the
tragedy is rapidly approaching, and save for the chance,
which is next to an impossibility, of our sighting land, or
being picked up by a passing vessel, ere another week has
elapsed not a single survivor of the Chancellor will remain.

The wind freshened considerably in the night, and it is
now blowing pretty briskly from the northeast. It has filled
our sail, and the white foam in our wake is an indication that
we are making some progress. The captain reckons that we
must be advancing at the rate of about three miles an hour.

Curtis and Falsten are certainly in the best condition
among us, and in spite of their extreme emaciation they bear
up wonderfully under the protracted hardships we have all
endured. Words cannot describe the melancholy state to
which poor Miss Herbey bodily is reduced; her whole being
seems absorbed into her soul, but that soul is brave and
resolute as ever, living in heaven rather than on earth. The
boatswain, strong, energetic man that he was, has shrunk
into a mere shadow of his former self, and I doubt whether
anyone would recognize him to be the same man. He keeps
perpetually to one corner of the raft, his head dropped upon
his chest, and his long, bony hands lying upon knees that
project sharply from his worn-out trowsers. Unlike Miss
Herbey, his spirit seems to have sunk into apathy, and it is
at times difficult to believe that he is living at all, so motion-
less and statue-like does he sit.

Silence continues to reign upon the raft. Not a sound,
not even a groan, escapes our lips. We do not exchange
ten words in the course of the day, and the few syllables
that our parched tongues and swollen lips can pronounce
are almost unintelligible. Wasted and bloodless, we are no
longer human beings; we are specters.


JANUARY 24. -- 1 have inquired more than once of Curtis
if he has the faintest idea to what quarter of the Atlantic
we have drifted, and each time he has been unable to give
me a decided answer, though from his general observation
of the direction of the wind and currents he imagines that
we have been carried westward, that is to say, toward the

To-day the breeze has dropped entirely, but the heavy
swell is still upon the sea, and is an unquestionable sign that
a tempest has been raging at no great distance. The raft
labors hard against the waves, and Curtis, Falsten, and the
boatswain, employ the little energy that remains to them in
strengthening the joints. Why do they give themselves
such trouble? Why not let the few frail planks part
asunder, and allow the ocean to terminate our miserable ex-
istence? Certain it seems that our sufferings must have
reached their utmost limit, and nothing could exceed the
torture that we are enduring. The sky pours down upon us
a heat like that of molten lead, and the sweat that saturates
the tattered clothes that hang about our bodies goes far to
aggravate the agonies of our thirst. No words of mine can
describe this dire distress; these sufferings are beyond human

Even bathing, the only means of refreshment that we
possessed, has now become impossible, for ever since Jynx-
strop's death the sharks have hung about the raft in shoals.

To-day I tried to gain a few drops of fresh water by
evaporation, but even with the exercise of the greatest pa-
tience, it was with the utmost difficulty that I obtained
enough to moisten a little scrap of linen; and the only kettle
that we had was so old and battered, that it would not bear
the fire, so that I was obliged to give up the attempt in de-

Falsten is now almost exhausted, and if he survives us at
all, it can only be for a few days. Whenever I raised my
head I always failed to see him, but he was probably lying
sheltered somewhere beneath the sails. Curtis was the only
man who remained on his feet, but with indomitable pluck
he continued to stand on the front of the raft, waiting,
watching, hoping. To look at him, with his unflagging
energy, almost tempted me to imagine that he did well to
hope, but I dared not entertain one sanguine thought, and
there I lay, waiting, nay, longing for death.

How many hours passed away thus I cannot tell, but after
a time a loud peal of laughter burst upon my ear. Someone
else, then, was going mad, I thought; but the idea did not
rouse me in the least. The laughter was repeated with
greater vehemence, but I never raised my head. Presently
I caught a few incoherent words.

"Fields, fields, gardens and trees! Look, there's an inn
under the trees! Quick, quick! brandy, gin, water! a guinea
a drop! I'll pay for it! I've lots of money! lots! lots!"

Poor deluded wretch! I thought again; the wealth of
a nation could not buy a drop of water here. There was
silence for a minute, when all of a sudden I heard the shout
of "Land! land!"

The words acted upon me like an electric shock, and, with
a frantic effort, I started to my feet. No land, indeed, was
visible, but Flaypole, laughing, singing, and gesticulating,
was raging up and down the raft. Sight, taste, and hear-
ing -- all were gone; but the cerebral derangement supplied
their place, and in imagination the maniac was conversing
with absent friends, inviting them into the George Inn at
Cardiff, offering them gin, whiskey, and, above all, water!
Stumbling at every step, and singing in a cracked, discordant
voice, he staggered about among us like an intoxicated man.
With the loss of his senses all his sufferings had vanished,
and his thirst was appeased. It was hard not to wish to be
a partaker of his hallucination.

Dowlas, Falsten, and the boatswain, seemed to think that
the unfortunate wretch would, like Jynxstrop, put an end
to himself by leaping into the sea; but, determined this time
to preserve the body, that it might serve a better purpose
than merely feeding the sharks, they rose and followed the
madman everywhere he went, keeping a strict eye upon his
every movement.

But the matter did not end as they expected. As though
he were really intoxicated by the stimulants of which he had
been raving, Flaypole at last sank down in a heap in a cor-
ner of the raft, where he lay lost in a heavy slumber.


JANUARY 25. -- Last night was very misty, and for some
unaccountable reason, one of the hottest that can be
imagined. The atmosphere was really so stifling, that it
seemed as if it only required a spark to set it alight. The
raft was not only quite stationary, but did not even rise
and fall with any motion of the waves.

During the night I tried to count how many there were
now on board, but I was utterly unable to collect my ideas
sufficiently to make the enumeration. Sometimes I counted
ten, sometimes twelve, and although I knew that eleven,
since Jynxstrop was dead, was the correct number, I could
never bring my reckoning right. Of one thing I felt quite
sure, and that was that the number would very soon be ten.
I was convinced that I could myself last but very little
longer. All the events and associations of my life passed
rapidly through my brain. My country, my friends, and
my family all appeared as it were in a vision, and seemed
as though they had come to bid me a last farewell.

Toward morning I woke from my sleep, if the languid
stupor into which I had fallen was worthy of that name.
One fixed idea had taken possession of my brain -- I would
put an end to myself; and I felt a sort of pleasure as I
gloated over the power that I had to terminate my suffer-
ings. I told Curtis, with the utmost composure, of my in-
tention, and he received the intelligence as calmly as it was

"Of course you will do as you please," he said; "for
my own part, I shall not abandon my post. It is my duty to
remain here; and unless death comes to carry me away, I
shall stay where I am to the very last."

The dull gray fog still hung heavily over the ocean, but
the sun was evidently shining above the mist, and would, in
course of time, dispel the vapor. Toward seven o'clock I
fancied I heard the cries of birds above my head. The
sound was repeated three times, and as I went up to the cap-
tain to ask him about it, I heard him mutter to himself:

"Birds! Why, that looks as if land were not far off."

But although Curtis might still cling to the hope of reach-
ing land, I knew not what it was to have one sanguine
thought. For me there was neither continent nor island;
the world was one fluid sphere, uniform, monotonous, as in
the most primitive period of its formation. Nevertheless
it must be owned that it was with a certain amount of im-
patience that I awaited the rising of the mist, for I was
anxious to shake off the phantom fallacies that Curtis's
words had suggested to my mind.

Not till eleven o'clock did the fog begin to break, and as
it rolled in heavy folds along the surface of the water, I
could every now and then catch glimpses of a clear blue sky
beyond. Fierce sunbeams pierced the cloud-rifts, scorching
and burning our bodies like red-hot iron; but it was only
above our heads that there was any sunlight to condense the
vapor; the horizon was still quite invisible. There was no
wind, and for half an hour longer the fog hung heavily
round the raft, while Curtis, leaning against the side, strove
to penetrate the obscurity. At length the sun burst forth in
full power, and, sweeping the surface of the ocean, dispelled
the fog and left the horizon open to our eyes.

There, exactly as we had seen it for the last six weeks,
was the circle that bounded sea and sky -- unbroken, definite,
distinct as ever! Curtis gazed with intensest scrutiny, but
did not speak a word. I pitied him sincerely, for he alone
of us all felt that he had not the right to put an end to his
misery. For myself, I had fully determined that if I lived
till the following day, I would die by my own hand.
Whether my companions were still alive, I hardly cared to
know; it seemed as though days had passed since I had
seen them.

Night drew on, but I could not sleep for a moment. To-
ward two o'clock in the morning my thirst was so intense
that I was unable to suppress loud cries of agony. Was
there nothing that would serve to quench the fire that was
burning within me? What if, instead of drinking the blood
of others, I were to drink my own? It would be all un-
availing, I was well aware; but scarcely had the thought
crossed my mind, than I proceeded to put it into execution.
I unclasped my knife, and, stripping my arm, with a steady
thrust I opened a small vein. The blood oozed out slowly,
drop by drop, and as I eagerly swallowed the source of my
very life, I felt that for a moment my torments were re-
lieved. But only for a moment; all energy had failed my
pulses, and almost immediately the blood had ceased to flow.

How long it seemed before the morning dawned! and
when that morning came it brought another fog, heavy as
before, that again shut out the horizon. The fog was hot
as the burning steam that issues from a boiler. It was to
be my last day upon earth, and I felt that I should like to
press the hand of a friend before I died. Curtis was stand-
ing near, and crawling up to him, I took his hand in my
own. He seemed to know that I was taking my farewell,
and with one last lingering hope he endeavored to restrain
me. But all in vain; my mind was finally made up.

I should have liked to speak once again to M. Letourneur,
Andre, and Miss Herbey, but my courage failed me. I
knew that the young girl would read my resolution in my
eyes, and that she would speak to me of duty, and of God,
and of eternity, and I dared not meet her gaze; and I would
not run the risk of being persuaded to wait until a lingering
death should overtake me. I returned to the back of the
raft, and after making several efforts, I managed to get
on to my feet. I cast one long look at the pitiless ocean and
the unbroken horizon; if a sail or the outline of a coast had
broken on my view, I believe that I should only have deemed
myself the victim of an illusion; but nothing of the kind
appeared, and the sea was dreary as a desert.

It was ten o'clock in the morning. The pangs of hunger
and the torments of thirst were racking me with redoubled
vigor. All instinct of self-preservation had left me, and
I felt that the hour had come when I must cease to suffer.
Just as I was on the point of casting myself headlong into
the sea, a voice, which I recognized as Dowlas's, broke upon
my ear.

"Captain," he said, "we are going to draw lots."

Involuntarily I paused; I did not take my plunge, but
returned to my place upon the raft.


JANUARY 26. -- All heard and understood the proposition;
in fact it had been in contemplation for several days, but no
one had ventured to put the idea into words. However, it
was done now; lots were to be drawn, and to each would be
assigned his share of the body of the one ordained by fate to
be the victim. For my own part, I profess that I was quite
resigned for the lot to fall upon myself. I thought I heard
Andre Letourneur beg for an exception to be made in favor
of Miss Herbey; but the sailors raised a murmur of dissent.
As there were eleven of us on board, there were ten chances
to one in each one's favor -- a proportion which would be
diminished if Miss Herbey were excluded; so that the young
lady was forced to take her chance among the rest.

It was then half-past ten, and the boatswain, who had
been roused from his lethargy by what the carpenter had
said, insisted that the drawing should take place immediately.
There was no reason for delaying the fatal lottery. There
was not one of us that clung in the least to life; and we
knew that, at the worst, whoever should be doomed to die,
would only precede the rest by a few days, or even hours.
All that we desired was just once to slake our raging thirst
and moderate our gnawing hunger.

How all the names found their way to the bottom of a
hat I cannot tell. Very likely Falsten wrote them upon a
leaf torn from his memorandum-book. But be that as it
may, the eleven names were there, and it was unanimously
agreed that the last name drawn should be the victim.

But who would draw the names? There was hesitation
for a moment; then "I will," said a voice behind me. Turn-
ing round, I beheld M. Letourneur standing with out-
stretched hand, and with his long white hair falling over his
thin livid face that was almost sublime in its calmness. I
divined at once the reason of this voluntary offer; I knew
that it was the father's devotion in self-sacrifice that led him
to undertake the office.

"As soon as you please," said the boatswain.

M. Letourneur proceeded to draw out the folded strips of
paper, one by one, and, after reading out loud the name
upon it, handed it to its owner.

The first name called was that of Burke, who uttered a
cry of delight; then followed Flaypole and the boatswain.
What his name really was I never could exactly learn.
Then came Falsten, Curtis, Sandon. More than half had
now been called, and my name had not yet been drawn.
I calculated my remaining chance; it was still four to one
in my favor.

M. Letourneur continued his painful task. Since Burke's
first exclamation of joy not a sound had escaped our lips,
but all were listening in breathless silence. The seventh
name was Miss Herbey's, but the young girl heard it with-
out a start. Then came mine, yes, mine! and the ninth was
was that of Letourneur.

"Which one?" asked the boatswain.

"Andre," said M. Letourneur.

With one cry Andre fell back senseless. Only two names
now remained in the hat -- those of Dowlas and M. Letour-
neur himself.

"Go on!" almost roared the carpenter, surveying his
partner in peril as though he could devour him. M. Le-
tourneur almost had a smile upon his lips, as he drew forth
the last paper but one, and with a firm, unfaltering voice,
marvelous for his age, unfolded it slowly, and read the name
of Dowlas. The carpenter gave a yell of relief as he heard
the word.

M. Letourneur took the last bit of paper from the hat,
and, without looking at it, tore it to pieces. But, unper-
ceived by all but myself, one little fragment flew into a
corner of the raft. I crawled toward it and picked it up.
On one side of it was written Andr--; the rest of the word
was torn away. M. Letourneur saw what I had done, and,
rushing toward me, snatched the paper from my hands, and
flung it into the sea.


JANUARY 26. -- I understood it all; the devoted father hav-
ing nothing more to give, had given his life for his son.

M. Letourneur was no longer a human being in the eyes
of the famished creatures who were now yearning to see him
sacrificed to their cravings. At the very sight of the victim
thus provided, all the tortures of hunger returned with
redoubled violence. With lips distended, and teeth dis-
played, they waited like a herd of carnivora until they could
attack their prey with brutal voracity; it seemed almost
doubtful whether they would not fall upon him while still
alive. It seemed impossible that any appeal to their human-
ity could, at such a moment, have any weight; nevertheless,
the appeal was made, and, incredible as it may seem, pre-

Just as the boatswain was about to act the part of butcher,
and Dowlas stood, hatchet in hand, ready to complete the
barbarous work, Miss Herbey advanced, or rather crawled,
toward them.

"My friends," she pleaded, "will you not wait just one
more day? If no land or ship is in sight to-morrow, then
I suppose our poor companion must become your victim.
But allow him one more day; in the name of mercy I en-
treat, I implore you."

My heart bounded as she made her pitiful appeal. It
seemed to me as though the noble girl had spoken with an
inspiration on her lips, and I fancied that, perhaps, in super-
natural vision she had viewed the coast or the ship of which
she spoke; and one more day was not much to us who had
already suffered so long, and endured so much.

Curtis and Falsten agreed with me, and we all united to
support Miss Herbey's merciful petition. The sailors did
not utter a murmur, and the boatswain in a smothered voice

"Very well, we will wait till daybreak to-morrow," and
threw down his hatchet.

To-morrow, then, unless land or a sail appear, the horrible
sacrifice will be accomplished. Stifling their sufferings by
a strenuous effort, all returned to their places. The sailors
crouched beneath the sails, caring nothing about scanning
the ocean. Food was in store for them to-morrow, and that
was enough for them.

As soon as Andre Letourneur came to his senses, his first
thought was for his father, and I saw him count the pas-
sengers on the raft. He looked puzzled; when he lost con-
sciousness there had been only two names left in the hat,
those of his father and the carpenter; and yet M. Letourneur
and Dowlas were both there still. Miss Herbey went up
to him and told him quietly that the drawing of the lots
had not yet been finished. Andre asked no further ques-
tion, but took his father's hand. M. Letourneur's counte-
nance was calm and serene; he seemed to be conscious of
nothing except that the life of his son was spared, and as
the two sat conversing in an undertone at the back of the
raft, their whole existence seemed bound up in each other.

Meantime, I could not disabuse my mind of the impres-
sion caused by Miss Herbey's intervention. Something told
me that help was near at hand, and that we were approach-
ing the termination of our suspense and misery; the chimeras
that were floating through my brain resolved themselves into
realities, so that nothing appeared to me more certain than
that either land or sail, be they miles away, would be dis-
covered somewhere to leeward.

I imparted my convictions to M. Letourneur and his son.
Andre was as sanguine as myself; poor boy! he little thinks
what a loss there is in store for him to-morrow. His father
listened gravely to all we said, and whatever he might think
in his own mind, he did not give us any discouragement;
Heaven, he said, he was sure would still spare the survivors
of the Chancellor, and then he lavished on his son caresses
which he deemed to be his last.

Some time afterward, when I was alone with him, M.
Letourneur whispered in my ear:

"Mr. Kazallon, I commend my boy to your care, and
mark you, he must never know --"

His voice was choked with tears, and he could not finish
his sentence.

But I was full of hope, and, without a moment's inter-
mission, I kept my eyes fixed upon the unbroken horizon.
Curtis, Miss Herbey, Falsten, and even the boatswain, were
also eagerly scanning the broad expanse of the sea.

Night has come on; but I have still a profound conviction
that through the darkness some ship will approach, and that
at daybreak our raft will be observed.


JANUARY 27. -- I did not close my eyes all night, and was
keenly alive to the faintest sounds, and every ripple of the
water, and every murmur of the waves, broke distinctly on
my ear. One thing I noticed and accepted as a happy omen;
not a single shark now lingered round the raft. The wan-
ing moon rose at a quarter to one, and through the feeble
glimmer which she cast across the ocean, many and many a
time I fancied I caught sight of the longed-for sail, lying
only a few cables'-lengths away.

But when morning came, the sun rose once again upon
a desert ocean, and my hopes began to fade. Neither ship
nor shore had appeared, and as the shocking hour of execu-
tion drew near, my dreams of deliverance melted away; I
shuddered in my very soul as I was brought face to face
with the stern reality. I dared not look upon the victim,
and whenever his eyes, so full of calmness and resignation,
met my own, I turned away my head. I felt choked
with horror, and my brain reeled as though I were intoxi-

It was now six o'clock, and all hope had vanished from
my breast; my heart beat rapidly, and a cold sweat of agony
broke out all over me. Curtis and the boatswain stood by
the mast attentively scanning the horizon. The boatswain's
countenance was terrible to look upon; one could see that
although he would not forestall the hour, he was determined
not to wait a moment after it arrived. As for the captain,
it was impossible to tell what really passed within his mind;
his face was livid, and his whole existence seemed concen-
trated in the exercise of his power of vision. The sailors
were crawling about the platform, with their eyes gleaming,
like the wild beasts ready to pounce upon their devoted prey.

I could no longer keep my place, and glided along to the
front of the raft. The boatswain was still standing intent
on his watch, but all of a sudden, in a voice that made me
start, he shouted:

"Now then, time's up!" and followed by Dowlas, Burke,
Flaypole, and Sandon, ran to the back of the raft. As
Dowlas seized the hatchet convulsively, Miss Herbey could
not suppress a cry of terror. Andre started to his feet.

"What are you going to do to my father?" he asked in
accents choked with emotion.

"My boy," said M. Letourneur, "the lot has fallen upon
me, and I must die!"

"Never!" shrieked Andre, throwing his arms about his
father. "They shall kill me first. It was I who threw
Hobart's body into the sea, and it is I who ought to die!"
But the words of the unhappy youth had no other effect
than to increase the fury of the men who were so stanchly
bent upon their bloody purpose.

"Come, come, no more fuss," said Dowlas, as he tore
the young man away from his father's embrace.

Andre fell upon his back, in which position two of the
sailors held him down so tightly that he could not move,
while Burke and Sandon carried off their victim to the

All this had taken place much more rapidly than I have
been able to describe it. I was transfixed with horror, and
much as I wished to throw myself between M. Letourneur
and his executioners, I seemed to be rooted to the spot where
I was standing.

Meantime the sailors had been taking off some of M.
Letourneur's clothes, and his neck and shoulders were al-
ready bare.

"Stop a moment!" he said in a tone in which was the
ring of indomitable courage. "Stop! I don't want to de-
prive you of your ration; but I suppose you will not require
to eat the whole of me to-day."

The sailors, taken back by his suggestion, stared at him
with amazement.

"There are ten of you," he went on. "My two arms
will give you each a meal; cut them off for to-day, and to-
morrow you shall have the rest of me."

"Agreed!" cried Dowlas; and as M. Letourneur held
out his bare arms, quick as lightning the carpenter raised
his hatchet.

Curtis and I could bear this scene no longer; while we
were alive to prevent it, this butchery should not be per-
mitted, and we rushed forward simultaneously to snatch
the victim from his murderers. A furious struggle ensued,
and in the midst of the melee, I was seized by one of the
sailors, and hurled violently into the sea.

Closing my lips, I tried to die of suffocation in the water;
but in spite of myself, my mouth opened, and a few drops
trickled down my throat.

Merciful Heaven! the water was fresh!


JANUARY 27 continued. -- A change came over me as if
by miracle. No longer had I any wish to die, and already
Curtis, who had heard my cries, was throwing me a rope.
I seized it eagerly, and was hauled up on to the raft.

"Fresh water!" were the first words I uttered.

"Fresh water?" cried Curtis; "why then, my friends,
we are not far from land!"

It was not too late: the blow had not been struck, and so
the victim had not yet fallen. Curtis and Andre (who had
regained his liberty) had fought with the cannibals, and it
was just as they were yielding to over-powering numbers
that my voice had made itself heard.

The struggle came to an end. As soon as the words
"fresh water" had escaped my lips, I leaned over the side
of the raft and swallowed the life-giving liquid in greedy
draughts. Miss Herbey was the first to follow my example,
but soon Curtis, Falsten, and all the rest were on their knees
and drinking eagerly. The rough sailors seemed as if by
a magic touch transformed back from ravenous beasts to
human beings, and I saw several of them raise their hands
to heaven in silent gratitude. Andre and his father were
the last to drink.

"But where are we?" I asked at length.

"The land is there," said Curtis, pointing toward the

We all stared at the captain as though he were mocking
us: no land was in sight, and the raft, just as ever, was the
center of a watery waste. Yet our senses had not deceived
us; the water we had been drinking was perfectly fresh.

"Yes," repeated the captain, "land is certainly there, not
more than twenty miles to leeward."

"What land?" inquired the boatswain.

"South America," answered Curtis, "and near the
Amazon; no other river has a current strong enough to
freshen the ocean twenty miles from shore!"


JANUARY 27 continued. -- Curtis, no doubt, was right.
The discharge from the mouth of the Amazon is enor-
mously large, but we had probably drifted into the only spot
in the Atlantic where we could find fresh water so far from
land. Yet land undoubtedly was there, and the breeze was
carrying us onward slowly but surely to our deliverance.

Miss Herbey's voice was heard pouring out fervent praise
to Heaven, and we were all glad to unite our thanksgivings
with hers. Then the whole of us (with the exception of
Andre and his father, who remained by themselves to-
gether at the stern) clustered in a group, and kept our ex-
pectant gaze upon the horizon.

We had not long to wait. Before an hour had passed,
Curtis leaped in ecstasy and raised the joyous shout of
"Land ahoy!"

. . . . .

My journal has come to a close.

I have only to relate, as briefly as possible, the circum-
stances that finally brought us to our destination.

A few hours after we first sighted land the raft was off
Cape Magoari, on the island of Marajo, and was observed
by some fishermen, who, with kind-hearted alacrity picked
us up and tended us most carefully. They conveyed us to
Para, where we became the objects of unbounded sympathy.

The raft was brought to land in latitude 0 deg. 12' north, so
that since we abandoned the Chancellor we had drifted at
least fifteen degrees to the southwest. Except for the in-
fluence of the Gulf Stream we must have been carried far,
far to the south, and in that case we should never have
reached the mouth of the Amazon, and must inevitably
have been lost.

Of the thirty-two souls -- nine passengers and twenty-
three seamen -- who left Charleston on board the ship, only
five passengers and six seamen remain. Eleven of us alone

An official account of our rescue was drawn up by the
Brazilian authorities. Those who signed were Miss Her-
bey, J. R. Kazallon, M. Letourneur, Andre Letourneur,
Mr. Falsten, the boatswain, Dowlas, Burke, Flaypole, San-
don, and last, though not least,
"Robert Curtis, Captain."

At Para we soon found facilities for continuing our
homeward route. A vessel took us to Cayenne, where we
secured a passage on board one of the steamers of the
French Transatlantic Aspinwall line, the Ville de St. Na-
zaire, which conveyed us to Europe.

After all the dangers and privations which we have under-
gone together, it is scarcely necessary to say that there has
arisen between the surviving passengers of the Chancellor
a bond of friendship too indissoluble, I believe, for either
time or circumstance to destroy; Curtis must ever remain
the honored and valued friend of those whose welfare he
consulted so faithfully in their misfortunes; his conduct
was beyond all praise.

When we were fairly on our homeward way, Miss Herbey
by chance intimated to us her intention of retiring from the
world and devoting the remainder of her life to the care
of the sick and suffering.

"Then why not come and look after my son?" said
M. Letourneur, adding, "he is an invalid, and he requires,
as he deserves, the best of nursing."

Miss Herbey, after some deliberation, consented to be-
come a member of their family, and finds in M. Letourneur
a father, and in Andre a brother. A brother, I say; but
may we not hope that she may be united by a dearer and a
closer tie, and that the noble-hearted girl may experience
the happiness that she so richly deserves?


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