ship was completely knocked away, his fore compartment full of water, foremast badly sprung, and the ship making water through her foremast water tight bulkhead. She was an old iron ship of 25 years' standing. The captain's request that the 'Peshawur' would stand by him all night was of course complied with.
"When day dawned the full extent of the havoc was visible. We spent many hours endeavouring to make fast to the 'Glenroy' in order to tow her into port.
"Only five knots an hour was the speed allowed, because the other ship was making water very fast, although all hands were at work on the pumps.
"On Thursday morning at eight o'clock we arrived off Galle, where we signalled and obtained a pilot boat who took off our telegrams, and in the afternoon we arrived safely at Colombo without the loss of a single life."
The end of the story is worth recording. At the subsequent Inquiry it was proved there was no one on watch on board the "Glenroy" at the time of the collision; the captain and the first and second mates were playing cards. Before coming into court they had evidently agreed on all telling the same story, and, when each in turn was asked at what hour the accident happened, one after the other they replied: "Oh, half-past eight, or a quarter to nine or thereabouts; Oh, half-past eight, or a quarter to nine or thereabouts. Oh, half-past eight, or a quarter to nine or thereabouts." The unanimity of this simple utterance at once threw suspicion on their bona fides and ultimately led to their undoing. Truly was it written, the way of transgressors is hard.
In 1875, the civilized world was shocked to hear
