I shook hands with Tom, who perceiving that I was , had accompanied me down to the boat, with his usual sympathy, and had offered to pull with me to Fulham, and walk back; which offer I declined, as I wished to be alone. It was a fine moonlight night, and the broad light and shadow, with the stillness of all around, were peculiarly adapted to my feelings. I continued my way up the river, in my mind the scenes of the day; the with one whom I never intended to have spoken to again; the little quarrel with those whom I never expected to have been at with, and that at the time when I was only exerting myself to serve them; and then I thought of Sarah, as an of real happiness in this desert, and dwelt upon the thought of her as the most pleasant and calming to my still mind. Thus did I till I had passed Putney Bridge, forgetting that I was close to my landing place, and continuing, in my reverie, to pull up the river, when my cogitations were disturbed by a noise of men laughing and talking, in a state of . They were in a four-oared wherry, coming down the river, after a party of pleasure, as it is termed, generally one ending in intoxication, I listened.  
“I tell you I can spin an with any man in the king’s service,” said the man in the bow, “Now look.”
 
He threw his oar out of the rowlocks, it in the air, but unfortunately did not catch it when it fell, and consequently it went through the bottom, starting two of the of the fragile-built boat, which immediately filled with water.
 
“Hilloa! waterman!” cried another, perceiving me, “quick, or we shall sink.” But the boat was nearly up to the in water before I could reach her, and just as I was nearly alongside she filled and turned over.
 
“Help, waterman; help me first; I’m senior clerk,” cried a voice which I well knew. I put out my oar to him as he struggled in the water, and soon had him clinging to the wherry. I then tried to catch hold of the man who had sunk the boat by his attempt to toss the oar, but he very quietly said, “No, damn it, there’s too many; we shall swamp the wherry; I’ll swim on shore”—and suiting the action to the word, he made for the shore with perfect self-possession, swimming in his clothes with great ease and .
 
I picked up two more, and thought that all were saved, when turning round, and looking towards the bridge, I saw resplendent in the bright beams of the moon, and “round as its orb,” the well-remembered face of the stupid young clerk who had been so inimical to me, struggling with all his might. I pulled to him, and putting out my oar over the bow, he seized it after rising from his first sink, and was, with the other three, soon clinging to the side of the wherry.
 
“Pull me in—pull me in, waterman!” cried the head clerk, whose voice I had recognised.
 
“No; you will swamp the boat.”
 
“Well, but pull me in, if not the others. I’m the senior clerk.”
 
“Can’t help that; you must hold on,” replied I, “while I pull you on shore; we shall soon be there.” I must say that I felt a pleasure in allowing him thus to hang in the water. I might have taken them all in certainly, although at some risk, from their want of presence of mind and hurry, arising from the feeling of self-preservation; but I desired them to hold on, and pulled for the landing-place; which we soon gained. The person who had preferred swimming had arrived before us, and was waiting on the beach.
 
“Have you got them all, waterman?” said he.
 
“Yes, sir, I believe so; I have four.”
 
“The is right,” replied he, “and four greater galloots were never picked up; but never mind that. It was my nonsense that nearly drowned them; and, therefore, I’m very glad you’ve managed so well. My jacket went down in the boat, and I must reward you another time.”
 
“Thank you, sir, no occasion for that, it’s not a regular fare.”
 
“Nevertheless, give us your name.”
 
“Oh, you may ask Mr Hodgson, the senior clerk, or that full-moon-faced fellow—they know my name.”
 
“Waterman, what do you mean?” replied Mr Hodgson, shivering with cold.
 
“Very fellow,” said the junior of the round face.
 
“If they know your name, they won’t tell it,” replied the other. “Now, I’ll first tell you mine, which is Wilson, of the navy; and now let’s have yours, that I may ask for it; and tell me what stairs you from.”
 
“My name is Jacob Faithful, sir,” replied I; “and you may ask your friends whether they know it or not when their teeth don’t quite so much.”
 
At the mention of my name the senior and junior clerk walked off, and the lieutenant, telling me that I should hear from him again, was about to leave. “If you mean to give me money, sir, I tell you I shall not take it. I hate these two men for the injuries they have heaped on me; but I don’t know how it is, I feel a degree of pleasure in having saved them, that I wish for no better revenge. So farewell, sir.”
 
“Spoken as you ought, my lad—that’s glorious revenge. Well, then, I will not come; but if ever we meet again I shall never forget this night and Jacob Faithful.” He held out his hand, shook mine warmly, and walked away.
&n............