during the worst of the gale, a mulatto man, with prominent features, indicating more of the mestino than negro character, was moving in busy occupation about the deck, and lending a willing hand with the rest of the crew to execute the captain's orders. he was rather tall, well formed, of a light olive complexion, with dark, piercing eyes, a straight, pointed nose, and well-formed mouth. his hair, also, had none of that crimp so indicative of negro extraction, but lay in dark curls all over his head. as he answered to the captain's orders, he spoke in broken accents, indicating but little knowledge of the english language. from the manner in which the crew treated him, it was evident that he was an established favourite with them as well as the officers, for each appeared to treat him more as an equal than a menial. he laboured cheerfully at sailor's duty until the first sea broke over her, when, seeing that the caboose was in danger of being carried from the lashings, and swept to leeward in the mass of wreck, he ran for that all-important apartment, and began securing it with extra lashings. he worked away with an earnestness that deserved all praise; not with the most satisfactory effect for an angry sea immediately succeeding completely stripped the furnace of its woodwork, and in its force carried the gallant fellow among its fragments into the lee-scuppers, where he saved himself from going overboard only by clinging to a stanchion.

the second mate, a burly old salt, ran to his assistance, but, before he reached him, our hero had recovered himself, and was making another attempt to reach his coppers. it seemed to him as much a pending necessity to save the cooking apparatus as it did the captain to save the ship.

"he no catch me dis time," said he to the mate, smiling as he lifted his drenched head from among the fragments of the wreck. "i fix a de coffee in him yet, please god."

after securing the remains of his cooking utensils, he might be seen busily employed over a little stove, arranged at the foot of the stairs that led to the cabin. the smoke from the funnel several times annoyed the captain, who laboured under the excitement consequent upon the confusion of the wreck and peril of his vessel, bringing forth remonstrances of no very pleasant character. it proved that the good steward was considering how he could best serve jack's necessities; and while they were laboring to save the ship, lie was studiously endeavoring to anticipate the craving of their stomachs. for when daylight appeared and the storm subsided, the steward had a bountiful dish of hot coffee to relieve jack's fatigued system. it was received with warm welcome, and many blessings were heaped upon the head of the steward; a good "doctor" is as essential for the interests of owners and crew as a good captain. so it proved in this instance, for while he had a careful regard for the stores, he never failed to secure the praises of the crew.

"when i gib de stove fire, den me gib de cap-i-tan, wid de crew, some good breakfas," said he with a gleam of satisfaction.

this individual, reader, was manuel pereira, or, as he was called by his shipmates, pe-rah-re. manuel was born in brazil, an extract of the indians and spanish, claiming birthright of the portuguese nation. it mattered but very little to manuel where he was born, for he had been so long tossed about in his hardy vocation that he had almost become alienated from the affections of birthplace. he had sailed so long under the protection of the main-jack of old england that he had formed a stronger allegiance to that country than to any other. he had sailed under it with pride, had pointed to its emblem, as if he felt secure, when it was unfurled, that the register-ticket which that government had given him was a covenant between it and himself; that it was a ticket to incite him to good behavior in a foreign country; and that the flag was sure to protect his rights, and insure, from the government to which he sailed respect and hospitality. he had sailed around the world under it--visited savage and semi-civilized nations--had received the hospitality of cannibals, had joined in the merry dance with the otaheitian, had eaten fruits with the hottentots, shared the coarse morsel of the greenlander, been twice chased by the patagonians--but what shall we say?--he was imprisoned, for the olive tints of his color, in a land where not only civilization rules in its brightest conquests, but chivalry and honor sound its fame within the lanes, streets, and court-yards. echo asks, where--where? we will tell the reader. that flag which had waved over him so long and in so many of his wayfarings--that flag which had so long boasted its rule upon the wave, and had protected him among the savage and the civilized, found a spot upon this wonderful globe where it ceased to do so, unless he could change his skin.