of our eastern colonies do not understand the value of time, consequently
the uncertain arrivals and departures of the _Lady Le Marchant_ furnish
matter for numerous speculations. From some circumstances which had
occurred within my knowledge--one being that the captain of this steamer
had _forgotten_ to call for the continental mails--I did not attach much
importance to the various times which were fixed definitely for her
sailing between the hours of four and ten.

A cloudy, gloomy night had succeeded to the bright blaze of an August day,
and midnight was fast approaching before the signal-bell rang. Two friends
accompanied me as far as Bedeque, and, besides the gentleman under whose
escort I was to travel, there were twelve island gentlemen and two ladies,
all supposed to be bound, like myself, for Boston. All separate
individualities were, however, lost amid the confusion of bear-skin and
waterproof coats and the impenetrable darkness which brooded both on wharf
and steamer.

An amusing scene of bungling marked our departure from Charlotte Town. The
captain, a sturdy old Northumbrian seaman, thoroughly understood his
business; but the owners of the ship compelled him to share its management
with a very pertinacious pilot, and the conflicting orders given, and the
want of harmony in the actions produced, gave rise to many reflections on
the evils of divided responsibility. On the night in question some
mysterious spell seemed to bind us to the shores of Prince Edward Island.
In an attempt to get the steamer off she ran stern foremost upon the
bowsprit of a schooner, then broke one of the piles of the wharf to
pieces, crushing her fender to atoms at the same time. Some persons on the
pier, compassionating our helplessness, attempted to _stave_ the ship off
with long poles, but this well-meant attempt failed, as did several
others, until some one suggested to the captain the very simple expedient