The fourth night of the gale was approaching when, as the captain was standing up supported by his crew to take a glance round the horizon as the boat rose to the summit of a sea, his eye fell on the dark sail of a ship seen under the sinking sun. She must, they knew, be approaching them; but might she not too probably pass by them in the dark? How their hearts beat with alternate hopes and fears. On she came, flying before the gale. They stood up, they waved, some shouted. Now, on the top of a foaming wave, they could see her; now, sunk into the trough, they lost fight of her altogether. Did she see them? Earnestly they prayed to heaven that she might. God is ever merciful to those who call upon him faithfully. On she came. "We are seen, we are seen!" they shouted. They knew her to be a British sloop of war. The courses were brailed up, the topsails closely reefed, and she was brought to the wind, so that they might pull up under her lee. Renewed strength for the operation was given them, and every help being afforded from the ship, they were soon in safety on her deck. Scarcely had they gained it ere they sank down through weakness, but many sank on their knees to return thanks to Him whose right arm had saved them. Jack found several old messmates from the _Tribune_, who had been turned over from her to the _Flora_, the ship which had saved him. So firmly had they been convinced that he had been lost, that they could at first scarcely believe him when he told them who he was. He at once entered gladly on board, and the rest of the brig's crew were not slow to follow his example. Many a gallant action was the _Flora_ engaged in before the close of the war. Long, indeed, was it, as Jack had anticipated, before he again saw his native land.