LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. rrr 



of the darkness, oh, horrible mistake ! I was, in fact, on the very 

 confine of the basin, and at the next step I sank overhead in the 

 water, after having dropped down some fifteen feet. Death now 

 stared me in the face. Here, I ought to remark, I wore the mira- 

 culous medal of the Blessed Virgin, so well known throughout 

 all France j and I had daily begged this ' Consolatrix Afflictorum ' 

 that she would obtain for me, from our dear Redeemer, the favour 

 that I might not die a sudden and unprovided death. At the first 

 plunge into the water, I heard a voice exclaim from the vessel, 

 'There is somebody overboard :' but not a word more. Stunned and 

 confounded by the awful accident, and not in the least aware 

 whither I was swimming, I had got under the paddle-wheel; and 

 there I found support. Just at this critical moment, when, through 

 excessive cold and numbness, I was on the point of sinking for the 

 last time, a voice called out in French, ' Courage, and I will save 

 you.' In an instant of time a Belgian sailor seized my hand, and 

 immediately a comrade came to his assistance. On hearing my cry 

 for help, they had come through the paddle-house door on deck, 

 and had descended through the interior of the wheel. Arrived on 

 board, soaked through and shivering in the midnight blast, two 

 police officers kindly stepped forward to my assistance, and I 

 requested to be conducted to a respectable hotel. The Dover 

 Castle, kept by the Widow Dyver (a most appropriate name on such 

 an occasion), was the nearest to us. Whilst the good lady was gazing 

 on me, she appeared greatly affected, and pressed me much to have 

 a doctor. ' There is one close at hand/ said she, ' he will be here 

 in a minute or two.' * Madam/ I replied, * a doctor will not be 

 necessary let me have a couple of blankets. I will roll myself up 

 in them, and lie down on the floor by the side of the fire, and I 

 shall be better at break of day.' So, I lay me down, without taking 

 inward consolation in the way of cordial, much to the astonishment 

 of those who were standing by. Ere the sun rose on the morrow, 

 nature had wonderfully rallied. My cloak, umbrella, hat, and port- 

 manteau, had all been picked up and conveyed to the hotel. The 

 portmanteau and umbrella had remained fixed in the mud, the 

 cloak had floated, and the hat had drifted still farther out. These 

 unlucky remnants of an unlucky misadventure, gave rise to a current 



