an ill-omened incident in the eyes of the crew.) We were filled
with pious gratitude when this quiet English sailor, whose hands
were torn and bleeding from his repeated efforts to catch the
rope thrown to him on his approach, took over the rudder. His
whole personality impressed us most agreeably, and he seemed to
us the absolute guarantee of a speedy deliverance from our
terrible afflictions. We rejoiced too soon, however, for we still
had before us the perilous passage through the sand-banks off the
English coast, where, as I was assured, nearly four hundred ships
are wrecked on an average every year. We were fully twenty-four
hours (from the evening of the 10th to the 11th of August) amid
these sandbanks, fighting a westerly gale, which hindered our
progress so seriously that we only reached the mouth of the
Thames on the evening of the 12th of August. My wife had, up to
that point, been so nervously affected by the innumerable danger
signals, consisting chiefly of small guardships painted bright
red and provided with bells on account of the fog, that she could
not close her eyes, day or night, for the excitement of watching
for them and pointing them out to the sailors. I, on the
contrary, found these heralds of human proximity and deliverance
so consoling that, despite Minna's reproaches, I indulged in a
long refreshing sleep. Now that we were anchored in the mouth of
the Thames, waiting for daybreak, I found myself in the best of
spirits; I dressed, washed, and even shaved myself up on deck
near the mast, while Minna and the whole exhausted crew were
wrapped in deep slumber. And with deepening interest I watched
the growing signs of life in this famous estuary. Our desire for
a complete release from our detested confinement led us, after we
had sailed a little way up, to hasten our arrival in London by
going on board a passing steamer at Gravesend. As we neared the