We will give John Scott a chance to tell his own tale, as recorded from the memory of our friend John Clark. JOHN SCOTT’S STORY. “The men who proposed the hazardous undertaking to me and my mess-mate, John Clark, set out from the ship after him, but in a contrary course from mine. One of them, after swimming about one hundred yards, concluding he could not hold out to reach the shore, returned and got on board without being discovered. Another swam about one hundred yards further, and found he would fail, hailed the ship and was taken up by the boat. But I and John Duncan held on our course about half way to the land, when Duncan began to fail; and the last words I heard him utter, were, ‘Lord, have mercy on me.’ I got to the island, but entirely naked, except a silk handkerchief around my waist. I then ran up and down the sand beach to keep warm till day-light, when I walked on the island and came to a large brick house, where a lady stood in the door-way and directed me to the barn, where a British sergeant lay, who gave me a pair of trowsers, and the lady sent me a fine, ruffled shirt, and a half-worn beaver hat, and gave me a hearty breakfast.” Scott got a passage to Charleston on a fishing boat, for which he paid two dollars; so it seems they weighed his purse by his fine clothes. While John Scott was narrating the desperate adventure, and how two of the number got back to the Narcissus, and Duncan was drowned, with sobs and tears he mentioned his dear mess-mate, John Clark, who, he doubted not, had perished, or been devoured by a shark, for though an excellent swimmer, he could never reach land in that direction. “And here,” said the generous-hearted sailor, “is the purse he knit and gave me, and I am determined to keep it as long as two meshes will hold together; for he was the best friend I ever had.”