But I am going ahead too fast. Let us revert for a moment to our departure from England. We sailed on the Elbe, the vessel that was afterwards wrecked. There was a good deal of bustle in getting on board, and some curiosity, I suppose, amongst the passengers, when they saw the sailors straining beneath the weight of my luggage and apparatus, and got to know that a strong man was to sail with them. With the captain and the first engineer I became very friendly, giving them, during the voyage, lessons in my system. Somehow I used to feel that the ship we were on was a doomed vessel. I am not ordinarily superstitious, and it is not necessary to attempt to account for the feeling, but do what I would I could not shake off the dread impression that one day that ship would go down. I became so friendly with the engineer, whom I used to visit in his own cabin, that I advised him to give up his appointment and go to sea no more. Some time after that, whilst I was in America, the world was startled by the news of the Elbe’s disaster. My friend, the engineer, was amongst the few who were saved. He wrote me a letter telling me of the tidings. This letter touched me very deeply, and, seeing that it contains a story of singular bravery, it may not be inappropriate if I introduce here so much of it as I remember. Having commented on the strange fulfilment of my prediction, he described how, when the boat was going down, the captain lashed himself to the bridge, saying he would never leave his ship. From the engineer’s boat they called to him to come on, but he would not stir. Then they sent back the pilot, but still to no purpose. By the faint glimmer of a lantern he pencilled a note which he asked might be sent, if the bearer should be saved, with his heart’s love to his dear wife and children. For the last time the pilot left the ship, and as the boat bore away from its now fast sinking sides the captain from the bridge, immovable from the post of duty, waved his long farewell. [Illustration] CHAPTER VII. MY FIRST HOUR IN AMERICA. First experiences are occasionally curious. You shall hear one of mine. Although the day we reached New York was the hottest that had ever been known in that great country of wonderful records, no heat, however extreme, could detract from the glories of New York Harbour, certainly the finest harbour I have ever seen. Numerous people, including, of course, the ubiquitous newspaper men, came on board to welcome me, bands were playing, and there was a gay and busy time generally.