e for some distance, but the sun was
invisible, and the war of the elements was raging with increasing fury.
In the afternoon the wind had shifted to north-west and increased to a
partial gale. The sloop was running under a bit of mainsail; it seemed
at times as if the following seas would founder the little vessel as
they towered over the low rail. Nothing was to be seen but the wide
expanse of water. Not even a solitary gull. The Captain remarked to his
wife, "It is a curious fact that, excepting the petrels, sea birds keep
near to the land in bad weather." Captain Godfrey feared the night, and
as it came on the wind grew in strength. A terrible sea was running, and
all were fastened below excepting Paul and the Captain. The Indian would
not leave the deck, although more than once he was nearly washed
overboard. At length darkness covered the face of the ocean, and the
wind howled in all its fury. The seas were like mountains, tossing the
sloop about like a cork. Mrs. Godfrey would remain below no longer. She
told her children, who were tumbling like nine-pins about the cabin
floor, not to cry, as she would soon return to them. As she put her head
out of the companion way, the Captain ordered her back. She said, "Where
is Paul?" Her husband answered, "I have called to him time and time
again to get below." She called to Paul, who was holding fast to the
anchor chain with his legs stuck under the windlass. He did not answer.
She started to creep forward. Her husband could not see her. At this
moment the sloop took a dreadful plunge. A heavy sea swept over her from
stern to bow, completely submerging her. The Captain, who had taken the
precaution to lash himself to the deck, in a half-drowned state, held
steadily to the tiller. As soon as possible he called to his wife, but
no answer came back. He called to Paul, and he too was silent. Was she
lost? Had she, in whom all his hopes were placed, been carried into the
sea and for ever lost to him on earth? These thoughts bewildered him
while he was trying to steer his vessel. He dare not leave the helm to
look after his wife and children. He hoped the sea had not broken into
the cabin and drowned all that were left to him on earth. He had often
been called to drink the cup of bitterness, had he been called to drink
it to its dregs? Had his sorrow at last reached its destined depths. He
burst into tears, almost stupified, and calling upon Him who is able to
guide the storm in