le; and
it was with no slight pleasure I heard a moaning wind rise slowly in the
night, freshening into a gale by morning. Ere twenty-four hours had
passed, with bare poles we were driven through the water just as a
child's walnut shell might be tossed on a rough ocean. Here, there, and
everywhere the sea rose, each wave with a crest to it madly buffeting
and fighting with the others, yet each apparently bent on attacking the
vessel, freighted with such precious lives. The wind whistled and roared
until every other sound was lost. We could hear it gathering in the
distance, then collecting, as it were, strength, rage, and speed as it
advanced, it poured all its wrath and fury upon what appeared to us, the
only victim with which it had to deal. The noble vessel bent, as it
were, her graceful head in deprecation of such furious rage and turmoil,
and shivering from bow to stern, would again rise lightly and proudly,
as if appalled, but yet indignant at the rough usage she was receiving;
yet far above the rattling wind the pealing thunder rolled with majestic
sound, while the incessant lightning showed us the mad waves in all
their forms. From time to time the captain sent us kind messages. We got
used to the noise, uproar, and shocks; but, nevertheless, we could
perceive the gale increased instead of abating. We bore it well for
twelve hours, not a murmur, not a fear was expressed; but, after a
shock, so tremendous that the vessel trembled to her inmost timber, a
faint shriek was heard from Madame, this was echoed from the deck, it
seemed to strike the ship motionless. As our breath returned to us,
slowly and labouringly did she rise, heavy and waterlogged; how unlike
the buoyant creature she had been a few moments before. Alas! that fatal
cry was not without its signification; a sea had struck her, and in
sweeping off seven men, had filled the ship with water, and carried away
rudder, deck-house, and everything. Then, indeed, fear took possession
of our minds. Amidst the roaring of the wind, the earnest and solemn
prayers of Madame might be heard, as she sat in the gloom of the cabin,
with ashen face and clasped hands, while the wailing sobs of the little
girls came mingled with subdued cries from the elder ones. The two boys
sat with faces uplifted, and their large eyes distended in fear and awe,
as if their wild wishes had caused this awful tempest. The servants,
unable to bear their fears alone, were seated in a distant