To a thinker, a dreamer, or a philosopher, nothing is more affecting than the departure of a ship -- for at the sight, the imagination runs loose and plays round the sails -- it sees her struggles with the sea and the wind in the adventurous journey, which does not always end in port . . . This, however, was the most unusual ship -- the Forward, the subject of Liverpool gossip for three long months. The brig was constructed with a solidity to withstand all tests of the sea, and to hold fast against enormous pressure -- with ribs built of teak and plated with iron. Why was the hull not built of sheet-iron, as was the practice with other steamboats? As the sailors who asked this were told, the mysterious engineer who ordered the Forward had his own, personal reasons . . . reasons he had yet to share with the world. Her steel prow, cast in Newcastle, shined in the sun. A sixteen-pounder cannon, mounted on a pivot to turn any direction whatsoever, loomed over the forecastle. Yet neither cannon nor stern, steel-clad though they were, made it look warlike. It was a mystery ship -- with a mysterious purpose.