It was his habit, when going his nightly rounds, to wear a rough overcoat of coarse blue cloth, and a broad-brimmed varnished hat, similar to those frequently worn by boatmen. Dressed in this guise, a few minutes before one o'clock, in the morning succeeding the afternoon just adverted to, he walked along George's Pier. The night was moonless, but not dark. The river was almost unruffled, though the faint light cast by the stars into the atmosphere was reflected in long lines upon the slight swell of the incoming tide. As he approached the steps, he discerned a boat in which four men were seated. His quick eye discovered that, as he had hoped, it was not a ship's boat, but one of the regular river craft. He began to descend the steps, when one of the boatmen exclaimed, "Is that you, Captain?"--"No," replied Shipp, coolly stepping into the boat, and seating himself in her bows, "but he'll be here immediately." The men, thinking he had been sent by the person who had employed them, made no remark. Presently footsteps were heard passing rapidly along the pier; the Captain, as the men called him, descended the steps, sprung into the boat, and, not observing Shipp, or, if he did so, thinking, from his position and appearance, that he was one of the regular crew, ordered the men to "push off, and pull away with a will." The men pulled with lusty sinews, and, in about half an hour, laid the boat alongside the pier at Birkenhead. "Holla!" exclaimed one of the boatmen, as their employer lifted a female into the boat, "is it a woman, Captain? this ought to be double pay, at least."--"Hold your tongue, man," replied the Captain, "and pull away for the sloop: I'll steer, for I know where she lies." The men again tugged hard at the oars, being as anxious as their employer to finish their job. Though the tide was now against them, another half hour of labour brought the boat alongside a small but handsome vessel, which was riding at anchor in the stream. "Hold fast, men," said the Captain, springing up the side of the sloop and gaining her deck; "stand by to help the lady, and then come on board and take a glass of grog, and be paid."--"Ay, ay, sir," was the ready response. It was now Shipp's turn to act. Stepping quickly to the stern of the boat he exclaimed loudly, "Let go, men, and pull ashore this instant. Young woman, you are deceived: this man is married: he has a wife at Whitehaven, and your brother is not on board his sloop."--"And who are you, Sir," exclaimed the master of the sloop, "that dare to interfere in my affairs?" "I am one of the police-officers of Liverpool," replied Shipp, "and I take this lady under my protection."--"If she chooses to come into my vessel," said the master, in a voice hoarse with passion, "I presume your interference is cursed impertinent and uncalled for. You wish to come on board, Mary, don't you?"--"Not if this be true," sobbed the girl; "if you are not deceiving me, call brother Tom; you said he would be here."--"I tell you," said Shipp, "your brother has gone to Birmingham, and you were on the point of being ruined. Let go, men, or it will be worse for you!" Hearing this, the boat-hook was instantly loosed, and the tide swept the boat from the sloop's side in a moment. "And are we to lose our money?" said one of the boatmen, as he reluctantly put out his oar; "we were to have had thirty shillings for this job."--"I will pay you," said Shipp. "Huzza!" exclaimed the boatmen, "pull away, my hearties!" As they rowed to the pier, Shipp related to the girl all that he had witnessed and overheard on the preceding day. "God bless you, Sir!" said she; "from what misery you have saved me!" On the following day the girl returned to her aunt, and, shortly afterwards, her brother called upon Shipp, and thanked him fervently for the great service he had rendered.