Jack wrote this; but I am sure that Captain Bankhead neither would nor could have done what he did, if our hero had not deserved such distinguished favors,--if he had not been a good boy and a good seaman. He had several weeks before received letters from home, informing him that his brother had been promoted to a lieutenancy. Tom was a commissioned officer, and was therefore some months, if not years, ahead of him in the race for distinction; but both of them, while they had a just and proper regard for the honors of their respective professions, were better satisfied to have served their country in its hour of trial than they were to receive their merited promotion. Jack wanted very much to get home; but he was so busy with his studies, that he had no time to be impatient at the delay. When an opportunity to depart was presented, he was much less elated than his half-dozen impatient companions who had nothing to occupy their minds. The men who were to go North were sent on board of an old steamer, which was hardly seaworthy, and which was going to New York for repairs. The voyage was prosperous till the steamer reached the latitude of Cape Hatteras, where she was overtaken by one of the severe gales which prevailed in that region. The vessel leaked badly, and shipped great seas, till she was in imminent danger of foundering. It required the utmost exertion of all hands to keep her afloat; but the men worked zealously and cheerfully, till an accident to the engine seemed to deprive them of all hope of ever seeing the land again. The ship rolled and pitched heavily in the head-seas for a time; and, at every roll, it seemed as though her back must be broken. By almost superhuman efforts on the part of the crew, sufficient sail was set to keep her head up to the sea, and she worked easier. Jack had just come down from the fore-topsail-yard, completely exhausted by the violence of his exertions. Life-lines had been extended along the deck for the men to hold on by when the seas swept over the decks. Jack had grasped one of these ropes just as the ship felt her helm; when a great combing billow broke over the bow, sweeping a flood of water towards the stern. The second-lieutenant of the steamer, who had been forward superintending the setting of the sail, was in front of him, and, either by accident or carelessness, lost his hold upon the life-line. The mass of water bore him along as though he had been a feather, towards a hole which the sea had stove in the bulwarks. Perceiving the perilous situation of the officer, Jack seized the inner fake of a rope, flemished on the deck, and sprang towards the lieutenant. Passing the line around his body, he followed the rolling billow, and succeeded in securing a hold upon the officer’s leg, just as he was sliding over the plank-shear into the sea.