wasstruckparticularlytoseecaptain，cook，andforemosthandswalkingthestreetandvisitingsaloonsincompany；and，aswhenanythingimpressedme，Igotmysketch-bookout，andbegantostealasketchofthefourcastaways。Thecrowd，sympathisingwithmydesign，madeaclearlaneacrosstheroom；andIwasthusenabled，allunobservedmyself，toobservewithastill-growingclosenessthefaceandthedemeanourofCaptainTrent。
Warmedbywhiskeyandencouragedbytheeagernessofthebystanders，thatgentlemanwasnowrehearsingthehistoryofhismisfortune。Itwasbutscrapsthatreachedme：howhe“filledheronthestarboardtack。”andhow“itcameupsuddenoutofthenor’nor’west。”and“thereshewas，highanddry。”
Sometimeshewouldappealtooneofthemen——“Thatwashowitwas，Jack？”——andthemanwouldreply，“Thatwasthewayofit，CaptainTrent。”Lastly，hestartedafreshtideofpopularsympathybyenunciatingthesentiment，“DamnalltheseAdmiralityCharts，andthat’swhatIsay！”Fromthenoddingofheadsandthemurmursofassentthatfollowed，IcouldseethatCaptainTrenthadestablishedhimselfinthepublicmindasagentlemanandathoroughnavigator：aboutwhichperiod，mysketchofthefourmenandthecanary-birdbeingfinished，andallespeciallythecanary-birdexcellentlikenesses，Ibuckledupmybook，andslippedfromthesaloon。
LittledidIsupposethatIwasleavingActI，SceneI，ofthedramaofmylife；andyetthescene，orratherthecaptain’sface，lingeredforsometimeinmymemory。Iwasnoprophet，asI
say；butIwassomethingelse：Iwasanobserver；andonethingIknew，Iknewwhenamanwasterrified。CaptainTrent，oftheBritishbrigFlyingScud，hadbeenglib；hehadbeenready；hehadbeenloud；butinhisblueeyesIcoulddetectthechill，andinthelinesofhiscountenancespytheagitationofperpetualterror。Washetremblingforhiscertificate？Inmyjudgment，itwassomelivelierkindoffearthatthrilledintheman’smarrowasheturnedtodrink。Wasittheresultofrecentshock，andhadhenotyetrecoveredthedisastertohisbrig？I