e
of perfect helplessness; he had, in fact, received a severe concussion
of the brain. Hillebrant was too severely injured to be able to move
from his bed, and Philip was now aware of the helplessness of their
situation. Daylight gradually disappeared, and as darkness came upon
them, so did the scene become more appalling. The vessel still ran
before the gale, but the men at the helm had evidently changed her
course, as the wind that was on the starboard was now on the larboard
quarter. But compass there was none on deck, and, even if there had
been, the men in their drunken state would have refused to listen to
Philip's orders or expostulations. "He," they said, "was no sailor, and
was not to teach them how to steer the ship." The gale was now at its
height. The rain had ceased, but the wind had increased, and it roared
as it urged on the vessel, which, steered so wide by the drunken
sailors, shipped seas over each gunnel; but the men laughed, and joined
the chorus of their songs to the howling of the gale.

Schriften, the pilot, appeared to be the leader of the ship's company.
With the can of liquor in his hand, he danced and sang, snapped his
fingers, and, like a demon, peered with his one eye upon Philip; and
then would he fall and roll with screams of laughter in the scuppers.
More liquor was handed up as fast as it was called for. Oaths shrieks
laughter, were mingled together; the men at the helm lashed it
amid-ships, and hastened to join their companions and the Ter Schilling
flew before the gale; the fore-staysail being the only sail set,
checking her, as she yawed to starboard or to port. Philip remained on
deck by the poop-ladder. Strange, thought he, that I should stand here,
the only one left now capable of acting,--that I should be fated to look
by myself upon this scene of horror and disgust--should here wait the
severing of this vessel's timbers,--the loss of life which must
accompany it--the only one calm and collected, or aware of what must
soon take place. God forgive me, but I appear, useless and impotent as
I am, to stand here like the master of the storm,--separated, as it
were, from my brother mortals by my own peculiar destiny. It must be
so. This wreck then must not be for me, I feel that it is not,--that I
have a charmed life, or rather a protracted one, to fulfil the oath I
registered in heaven. But the wind is not so loud, surely the water is
not so rough: my forebodings may be w