The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 27: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

distance eastward of it. “Tt was just as the storm, which lasted three nights and two days, began to abate, that towards the horizon we saw a dull red light; and as it was not in a quarter of the sky where any such appearance might be imagined, nor were we in a latitude where electro- phenomena® might be expected, we steered towards it, surmising what turned out afterwards to be fully correct.” “Tt was a ship on fire!” said Johanna. “Tt was.” “Alas! alas! I guessed it. A frightful suspicion from the first crossed my mind. It was a ship on fire, and that ship was—” “The Star, still bound upon its adventurous course, although driven far out of it by adverse winds and waves. After about half an hour’s sailing we came within sight distinctly of a blazing vessel. “We could hear the roar of the flames, and through our glasses we could see them curling up the cordage, and dancing from mast to mast, like fiery serpents, exulting in the destruction they were making. We made all sail, and strained every inch of canvas to reach the ill-fated vessel, for distances at sea that look small are in reality very great, and an hour’s hard sailing in a fair wind with every stitch of canvas set, would not do more than enable us to reach that ill-fated bark; but fancy in an hour what ravages the flames might make! “The vessel was doomed. The fiat had gone forth that it was to be among the things that had been; and long before we could reach the spot upon which it floated idly on the now comparatively calm waters, we saw a bright shower of sparks rush up into the air. Then came a loud roaring sound over the surface of the deep, and all was still—the ship had disappeared, and the water closed over it for 999 ever. “But how knew you,” said Johanna, as she clasped her hands, and the pallid expression of her countenance betrayed the deep interest she took in the narration, “how knew you that ship was the Star? Might it not have been some other ill-fated vessel that met with so dreadful a fate?” “T will tell you: although we had seen the ship go down, we kept on our course, straining every effort to reach the spot, with a hope of picking up some of the crew, who surely had made an effort by the boats to leave the burning vessel. “The captain of the Indiaman® kept his glass at his eye, and presently he said to me,— “*There is a floating piece of wreck, and something clinging to it; I know not if there be a man, but what I can perceive seems to me to be the head of a dog.’ “T looked through the glass myself, and saw the same object; but as we neared it, we found that it was a large piece of the wreck, with a dog and a man supported by it, who were clinging with all the energy of desperation. In ten minutes more we had them on board the vessel—the man was the Lieutenant Thornhill I have before mentioned, and the dog belonged to him. “He related to us that the ship we had seen burning was the Star; that it had never reached its destination, and that he believed all had perished but himself and the dog; for, although one of the boats had been launched, so desperate a rush was made into it by the crew that it had swamped, and all perished. “Such was his own state of exhaustion, that, after he had made to us this short statement, it was some days before he left his hammock; but when he did, and began to mingle with us, we found an intelligent, cheerful companion—such a one, indeed, as we were glad to have on board, and in confidence he related to the captain and myself the object of the voyage of the Star, and the previous particulars with which I have made you acquainted. “And then, during a night-watch, when the soft and beautiful moonlight was more than usually inviting, and he and I were on the deck, enjoying the coolness of the night, after the intense heat of the day in the tropics, he said to me,— ““T have a very sad mission to perform when I get to London. On board our vessel was a young man named Mark Ingestrie; and some time before the vessel in which we were went down, he begged of me to call upon a young lady named Johanna Oakley, the daughter of a spectacle-maker in London, providing I should he saved and he perish; and of the latter event, he felt so strong a presentiment that he gave me a string of pearls, which I was to present to her in his name; but where he got them I have not the least idea, for they are of immense value.’ “Mr. Thornhill showed me the pearls, which were of different sizes, roughly strung together, but of great value; and when we reached the river Thames, which was only three days since, he left us with his dog, carrying his string of pearls with him, to find out where you reside.” “Alas! he never came.” “No; from all the inquiries we can make, and all the information we can learn, it seems that he disappeared somewhere about Fleet Street.” “Disappeared!” “Yes; we can trace him to the Temple Stairs, and from thence to a barber’s shop, kept by a man named Sweeney Todd; but beyond there no information of him can be obtained.” “Sweeney Todd!” “Yes; and what makes the affair more extraordinary, is that neither force nor persuasion will induce Thornhill’s dog to leave the place.” “T saw it—I saw the creature, and it looked imploringly, although kindly, in my face; but little did I think, when I paused a moment, to look upon that melancholy but faithful animal, that it held a part in my destiny. Oh! Mark Ingestrie, Mark Ingestrie, dare I hope that you live when all else have perished?” “T have told you all that I can tell you, and, according as your own judgment may dictate to you, you can encourage hope, or CORniclooo S CO)