“The squall was too soon over to get up anything like a sea, and Downright he held on to his oar and struck out like a man. Well, what between floating and treading water, I got most of things clear. I was as strong as a bull then, and though it was a long swim for a man I had before me, I never lost heart noway. Downright, too, kept on close in my wake; we didn’t say much, you may be sure, but I know _I_ thought of his missus and four children. At last I hear him whisper quite hoarse-like, ‘Hairblower, it’s no use, I be goin’ down now!’ And when I turned on my back to look at him he was quite confused, and had let the oar cast off altogether. I couldn’t see it nowhere. I tried to get alongside of him, but he was gone. I saw _the bubbles_ though, and dived for him, but it was no use, and after that I held on alone. The sun was getting down too, and queer fancies began to come into my head about Downright. Sometimes I thought he was in heaven _then_, and once I’ll swear I heard something whisper to me, but I couldn’t tell what it said. The gulls, too, they began to stoop at me, and scream in my ears; one long-winged ’un flapped me on the cheek, and for a bit I scarcely knew whether I was dead or alive myself. At last, as I came over the tops of the rollers, I saw the spars in the harbor, and the chimneys at St. Swithin’s, and for awhile I thought I should get home after all, so I turned on my side to get my breath a bit. I ought to have made a buoy, as I calculated, about this time, but seek where I would, I couldn’t see it nowhere, only looking down Channel to get my bearings a little, I saw by the craft at anchor in the bay that the tide was on the turn. My heart leapt into my mouth then. I had pulled a boat often enough against the ebb hereabouts, and I knew how strong it ran, and what my chance was, swimming, and nearly done too. First I thought I’d go quietly down at once, like my mate did, and I said a bit of a prayer, just inside like, and then I felt stronger, so I thought what was best to be done; and says I, ‘’bout ship’ now is our only chance, and maybe we shall get picked up by some fishing craft, or such like, afore we drift clean out to sea again. Well, the Lord’s above all, and though I thought once or twice I was pretty nigh out of my mind, I _was_ picked up at last by a Frenchman. _He’d_ no call to be where he was; I think he was there special, but I knew very little about anything else, for I was in the hospital nine weeks afore I could remember as much as I’ve told you. Howsoever, Friday’s an unlucky day, Miss Blanche, you may take your Bible oath of it.”