This was rather unpleasant news to Richard and myself, for if we could not go with that ship, it would be expensive to wait two or three weeks till the next vessel started; in fact, we did not have means to do so. Not only this, but we were in suspense about being away, for we were afraid we might be captured and taken back to our homes. In the forenoon of that day we went down to St. Catherine's Docks and got on board the _American Congress_. The next morning Bro. Barker Childs, one of the Saints who sailed with us from Sunderland, asked me a rather curious question. Said he: "What would you think if you were taken off the ship?" I replied: "I don't know." Shortly after this, President Linford came. "Good morning," said Barker. "Good morning," responded Linford. "Well," said Barker, "what's the news? Have we to stay here or not?" "You can go with this vessel," replied President Linford. This was good news to all of us who had sailed from Sunderland, and we felt to rejoice when he told us. Late in the afternoon of Wednesday the ship was towed down the river to Shadwell Basin, and word was passed around that she would sail early next morning. About 7 o'clock in the evening a meeting of the Saints was held on the deck. There were some good, soul-stirring hymns sung, and addresses were delivered by Elders John Nicholson and N. H. Felt. While the services were in progress quite a crowd of spectators were viewing us from the shore, and among them was a short, stout man, who gazed intently at Richard and I. After the meeting was over we both went below to our bunk, where we anxiously awaited the morrow to come, when we would be out on the ocean beyond all danger of pursuit. The ship was well filled with passengers--every berth being taken. Early next morning we were up in good time. I walked about the cabin and on the deck with a feeling of gloom over me. I told Richard of my foreboding of something unpleasant, but what it was I could not tell. The sailors were busy preparing for the long voyage, and we expected soon to start. About half past 7 o'clock I went off the ship to get a supply of water. Returning, I came near to where Richard was on deck, and said: "Here's the water; now let's go and get breakfast." No sooner had I said these words than a noise occurred in the gangway, and the next moment a voice cried out: "That's one of them!" I had hardly time to turn around when a rough hand seized me by the collar. The next words I heard were: "I want you!" The person who spoke first was Mr. Thomas Carter, Richard's employer; the other speaker was a London detective, the man who watched us so closely the night previous at the meeting. Mr. Carter then, in a quick tone, enquired: "Where's Richard?" "He is there," I replied, pointing towards him as he stood close by, an eye-witness to what was going on. The detective then seized him and pulled him towards me, taking from his breast coat pocket two summonses.