plate, Miss Lois sat staring at the wall with
her lips tightly compressed, while Anne covered her face with her hands
to keep back the tears. Pere Michaux rose and began to walk up and down
the room; for a moment, besides his step, there was no sound save the
roar of the storm. Tita's words had ended all pretense, clothed their
fear in language, and set it up in their midst. From that moment,
through the long day, there was no more disguise; every cloud, every
great wave, was watched, every fresh fierce blast swept through four
anxious hearts. They were very silent now, and as the storm grew
wilder, even the boys became awed, and curled themselves together on the
broad window-seat, speaking in whispers. At noon a vessel drove by under
bare poles; she seemed to be unmanageable, and they could see the
signals of the sailors as they passed the island. But there was no
life-boat, and nothing else could live in that sea. At two o'clock a
large bark came into view, and ran ashore on the reef opposite; there
she lay, pounding to pieces for two hours. They saw the crew try to
launch the boats; one was broken into fragments in a moment, then
another. The third and last floated, filled with humanity, and in two
minutes she also was swamped, and dark objects that they knew were men
were sucked under. Then the hull of a schooner, with one mast standing,
drove aimlessly by, so near the shore that with the glass they could see
the features of the sailors lashed to the pole.

"Oh! if we could but save them!" said Anne. "How near they are!" But
even as she spoke the mast fell, and they saw the poor fellows drown
before their eyes.

At four the _Huron_ came into sight from the western pass, laboring
heavily, fighting her way along inch by inch, but advancing. "Thanks be
to the Lord for this!" said the chaplain, fervently. Pere Michaux took
off his velvet cap, and reverently made the sign of the cross.

"'Twouldn't be any harm to sing a hymn, I guess," said Miss Lois, wiping
her eyes. Then Anne sang the "De Profundis." Amid the storm all the
voices rose together, the children and Miss Lois and the two priests
joining in the old psalm of King David, which belongs to all alike,
Romanist and Protestant, Jew and Christian, bond and free.

"I do feel better," said Miss Lois. "But the steamer is still far off."

"The danger will be when she attempts to turn," said Pere Michaux.

They all stood at the windows watching the boat as she roll