Under such phases of affairs, I have written some half-dozen different times, stating to those whom I addressed that I would certainly be home at the periods that had been severally and distinctly determined on. Some of these letters bore the date of August, 1858; and I do not know but that those who received them may have set down such disparities to wilful misrepresentations, or a sickening anxiety on my part to get home, leading me to believe in an early return, because it was so much the more desirable, and in accordance with my hourly wishes. But such, I can safely say, was not the case; for even now, at the present writing, (January 31st, 1859,) I cannot, neither can any other in the ship except the captain--all assurances to the contrary notwithstanding--set a time, which they can firmly believe themselves will be that at which we shall really start for home. So, I must be absolved from the charge of writing at random; and the blame must rest, where it should: upon the captain’s wavering, and his being so easily influenced by others. CHAPTER XIV. At daylight, February 1st, we hove in sight of the Isle of St. Helena, the world-renowned prison-rock of Napoleon Bonaparte, the conqueror of Europe. At a distance, this isle looked not unlike other isles, despite its notoriety. As we approached nearer, we found it distinctive in all its features: high, frowning, and almost barren. A strange thing, this, for so low a latitude, within the tropics, where Nature dons her greenest garment, and smiles her sunniest smile: spreading rich and plentiful productions over the earth’s surface. On approaching still nearer, we found fortifications erected, which, as far as I am able to judge, make the island impregnable; though what enemy would care to take the trouble and expense of an expedition against so worthless an object, I cannot imagine. After passing this chain of fortifications, Rupert’s Valley gradually developed itself to our sight, and ensconced on its narrow bosom we saw the city of Jamestown. From the water this town presents quite a creditable appearance. The buildings being of stone, and many of them of goodly size, give an air of solidity and respectability to it, which I for one did not expect to find. On the right of the town, viewed from the sea, is the far-famed Jacob’s Ladder, consisting of I do not know how many steps, hewn out of the solid rock, which affords the only means of ingress and egress to the garrison occupying a fort at the summit of the elevation. There is only a single narrow street laid out in the town--the narrowness of the valley not admitting of any farther expansion. On the sides of the acclivities are stone-walls, built for the purposes of travel. They are wide, and admit of the passage of a vehicle upon them; but a misstep will entail upon the unfortunate wight who should make it certain death, as it would precipitate him into an abyss hundreds of feet in depth.