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“I am quite sure no English sailor would, and very few real sailors of any nation, I think. A real seaman knows too well what sea-perils are, and that what is another man’s case one day may be his the next; and cowardice and cold-heartedness are the last sins that can be laid at Jack Tar’s door as a rule. But I will finish my story by telling the children what happened next morning, as it goes to illustrate both my statements, that it is not easy to see an open boat in a heavy sea, and that sailors are very ready to risk their lives for each other.”

“You’re like Captain Marryat, Cousin Peregrine,” said Fred.

“He’s not a sailor captain, he’s a soldier captain,” said Maggie. “Go on, Cousin.”

“As I told you, we had two or three hours of very disagreeable work before our cabins were even tolerably comfortable; but it made us more tired than ever, and when I did turn in I slept like a top, and the rolling of the ship only rocked me to sounder slumbers. I was awakened at seven o’clock next morning by a fellow-passenger, who popped in to cry, ‘There’s a man overboard!’ ‘Who?’ shouted I as I jumped up. ‘Giovanni,’ he replied as he vanished, leaving me to follow him on deck as quickly as possible. Now, Fred, picture to yourself a grey morning, the damp deck of our vessel being rapidly crowded with everybody on board, and all eyes strained towards a heavy sea, with big blue-black mountains of water running at us, and under us, and away from us all along; every wave had a white crest: but there were some other patches of snowy white hovering over the dark sea, on which all the experienced eyes were soon fixed!”

“What were they?” whispered Fred.

“Albatross,” said Cousin Peregrine. “They had been following us for days, hovering, swooping, and whirling those great white wings of theirs, which sometimes measure nine feet from tip to tip.”

“What did they follow you for?”

“They came to pick up anything that may be thrown overboard, and they came now, as we knew, after poor Giovanni, whose curly black head kept ducking out of their way as he swam with desperate courage in our wake.”

“Oh, Cousin Peregrine! Didn’t the captain stop the ship?”

“Certainly, Maggie, though, quickly as it was done, it left the poor fellow far away behind. And heavy as the sea was, they were lowering a boat when I got on deck, and the captain had called for volunteers among the sailors to man it.”

“Oh, I hope he got them!”

“I hope you won’t insult a noble and gallant profession by having any doubt about it, Maggie. He might have had the ship’s crew bodily if he had wanted them, and if the waves had run twice as high.”

“Spare me!” said Mamma.

“As it was the few men needed were soon ready. The boat was launched without being upset, and the men got in without mishap. Then they laid themselves to their oars, we gave them a parting cheer, and they vanished from our sight.”

“Drowned, Cousin Peregrine?”

“No, no. Though I can tell you we were as anxious for them as for Giovanni now. But when they had crossed the first water-mountains, and gone down into the water-valleys beyond, they were quite out of sight of the crowd on the deck of the ship, daylight though it was.”

“I retract everything I ever said,” cried Mamma impetuously.

“And not only could we not see them, but they could not see the man they were risking their lives to save. Those crested mountains which hid them from us hid him from them.”

“What did you do?”

“Men were sent up the masts to look out from such a height that they could look over the waves. They could see both Giovanni and the boat, and as they were so high up the men in the boat could see them. So the men on the masts kept their eyes on Giovanni, and the men in the boat kept their eyes on the men on the masts, and steered their course according to the signals from the look-out.”

“And they saved him?”

“Yes, they brought him back; and if we cheered when they went away, you may believe we cheered when they got safe to the ship’s side again.”

“And who was Giovanni? and did he get all right?”

“Giovanni was one of the sailors, an Italian. He was a fine young fellow, and appeared to think nothing whatever of his adventure. I remember he resolutely refused to go below and change his clothes till he had helped to haul up the boat. With his white teeth shining through a broad grin, he told us in his broken English that he had been overboard every voyage he had taken. He said he didn’t mind anything except the swooping and pecking of the albatross. They obliged him to dive so constantly, to keep his eyes from their beaks.”

“Was it a comber washed him overboard?”

“No. He was mending the jib-boom, and lost his hold and fell into the sea. He really had a very narrow escape. A less active swimmer might easily have been drowned. I always think, too, that he had an advantage in the fact that the water was warm.”

“I am so glad the nasty albatross were disappointed.”

“The nasty albatross were probably disappointed when they found that Giovanni was not a piece of spoilt pork. However, they set their beautiful wings, and went their way, and we set our sails, and went our way, which was to Adelaide, South Australia.”