But it swung as fast as ever; and the captain now showed more courage than Mr. Morrison had given him credit for, by rushing at him just as he swung his weapon to one side, and seizing it before he could return a blow. With Mr. Howard's help he wrested it from him, and telling that officer to hold on to him, he seized the end of the crossjack-brace (a two and a half inch rope), and beat him over the back, until he cried most piteously for mercy, and made many promises of future good behavior. This did not satisfy Mr. Howard, who, as soon as the captain had let him go, put his brass knuckles on his right hand, and striking Jake a heavy blow, threw him to the deck. He then kneeled upon him, clutched his throat with the left hand, and with the knuckles beat him in the face. The man gasped out cries and entreaties, saying: "Take him off, cap'n; take him off. Don't let him kill me." And at last the captain had to catch Howard's arm and say to him: "I guess that'll do, Mr. Howard. He's got enough for this time." Jake's face was a sorry-looking object the next day, and for some days after; and he told the mate he thought one of his ribs was broken. But he kept at his work as well as he could, and always was particular about answering Mr. Howard with a "Sir!" Things went on again quietly, and in three or four days more we were off the Gulf of Lyons. The prospect of soon reaching port cheered all on board, and all but Jake seemed lively and even happy. We signalized the ship "Martha Dutton," Capt. Cheever, when a day's sail from Genoa; and it immediately after came on to blow a heavy gale from the south-west. Capt. Cheever was an old sea-captain, and adhered to the prudent rule of not approaching a lee shore in a gale of wind, within less than the distance of a day's drift (say sixty miles), and after awhile he hove his ship to, and waited for a better chance to make the land. Capt. Streeter kept the "Dublin" running before the wind into the Gulf of Genoa; and as the next morning brought a head wind when he was in sight of his port, he was very much the gainer for his attempt. When Capt. Cheever arrived three days after him, he shook his head and told Capt. Streeter he had done the most hair-brained act he ever knew the master of a ship to commit. The "Dublin" had yet one day more to wait before dropping her anchor. The head wind lasted until she had beat up within two miles of the mole of Genoa, and then it died away calm and continued so, with occasional light airs from the shore. There was no anchorage, and as the ship slowly drifted from one side of the bay to the other, we had a fine chance to take a sea-view of the renowned city of Genoa.