During the next day the _Dale_ made her appearance, and received the transfer of the prisoners. Although I was sent with them, the Captain's note was accepted as proof of my innocence, and I was restored to liberty and made a messenger-boy on board the man-of-war, in which capacity I served until the _Dale_ was relieved by the sloop-of-war _Vincennes_, and returned to the United States a few months later. The lieutenant who had been left in ambush and who had captured the slaver was placed on board of her in command, and she was afterwards employed successfully as a decoy for bringing a number of other slave-ships within the clutches of Uncle Sam's officers. My advent in the village was all that I could have wished for. The local paper published my picture in man-of-war uniform, together with a history of my voyage; and I was heroized by the girls, and looked upon with sufficient admiration and burning jealousy on the part of my former school-fellows to make even my cup of satisfaction and happiness full to the brim. STORIES OF PRESENCE OF MIND. IN REPORTING THE "VICTORIA" DISASTER. BY DAVID GRAHAM PHILLIPS. The newsman at Piccadilly and St. James's Street had his bill of news wares pasted on the pavement. Even he who ran by means of a swift hansom-cab might read the huge black letters. There was but one article on the bill. Black type, three inches long, shouted: HORRIBLE DISASTER! H.M.S. "VICTORIA" RAMMED AND SUNK! FOUR HUNDRED LIVES LOST! As Fabian Wendell, London correspondent of the New York _Intelligence_, and his friend Carter, just from New York, were whirled out of St. James's Street into Piccadilly, Wendell's eye caught the announcement. He lifted the trap in the top of the cab and told cabby to pull into the pavement and hail the newsman. [Illustration: "ALL THE PAPERS," SAID WENDELL.] "All the papers," said Wendell, and straightway had the afternoon rainbow--the pink _Star_, the yellow _Globe_, the white _Pall Mall_, the pale gray _Standard_, and the green _Westminster_. "What is the matter?" asked Carter. "Great news," replied Wendell, opening the _Pall Mall_, and pointing to a "scare head" half a column long. Under the head-lines was this short despatch: TRIPOLI, _June_ 23d.--H.M.S. _Camperdown_ rammed H.M.S. _Victoria_ yesterday five miles out at sea. The _Victoria_ sank at once. Rear-Admiral Tryon, most of his officers, and over three hundred men were lost. "The Mediterranean fleet," went on Wendell, talking to arrange his thoughts rather than to inform his friend, "has been cruising in the Levant. _Victoria_ was the biggest and most formidable battle-ship in the world. _Camperdown_ is almost as big. Tripoli is on the north coast of Africa--" "No," interrupted Carter, who was looking at the _Standard_. "This paper says it is Tripoli, on the coast of Asia Minor."