ullen murmur of the wind and waves, and no answering sound was heard on
the solitary deep. Apprehensive that they approached too near the land,
in the gloom and uncertainty which surrounded them, Stanhope resolved to
anchor, and wait for returning day.

This resolution was generally approved; for, among the adventurers who
accompanied him, Stanhope could number few expert seamen, and the
natural fears of the inexperienced were heightened by superstitious
feelings, at that time prevalent among all classes of people. Many
seemed persuaded that they were suffered to fall into danger, as a
judgment for joining with papists, in a cause of doubtful equity; and
they expressed a determination to relinquish all further concern in it,
should they be permitted to reach the destined shore in safety.
Arguments, at such a moment, were useless; and Arthur, perplexed and
anxious, yet cautious to conceal his disquietude, passed the whole of
that tedious night in watch upon the deck.

Another dawn revived the hopes of all,--but they were only transient;
the tempest, which had been so long gathering, was ready to burst upon
their heads. Clouds piled on clouds darkened the heavens, the winds blew
with extreme violence, and the angry waves, crested with foamy wreaths,
now bore the vessel mountain high, then sunk with a tremendous roar,
threatening to engulph it in the fearful abyss. Still the ship steered
bravely on her course, in defiance of the raging elements; and Stanhope
hoped to guide her safely to a harbor, at no great distance, where she
might ride out the storm at anchor, for destruction appeared inevitable,
if they remained in the open sea. This harbor lay at an island, near the
entrance of the river Schoodic, or St. Croix; and was much frequented by
the trading and fishing vessels of New-England and Acadia. Already they
seemed to gain the promised haven, and every eye was eagerly directed to
it, with the almost certain prospect of release from danger and
suspense.

It was necessary to tack, to enter the channel of the river; and, at
that fatal moment, the wind struck the mainmast with a force which
instantly threw it over-board; and the ship, cast on her beam-ends by
the violence of the shock, lay exposed to a heavy sea, which broke over
her deck and stern. The crew, roused by their immediate hazard, used
every exertion to right the vessel; and Stanhope, who had not abandoned
the helm since the first moment of peril, managed, w