rong and all may yet be saved.
Heaven grant it! For how melancholy, how lamentable is it to behold men
created in God's own image, leaving the world, disgraced below the brute
creation!

Philip was right in supposing that the wind was not so strong, nor the
sea so high. The vessel, after running to the southward till past Table
Bay, had, by the alteration made in her course, entered into False Bay,
where, to a certain degree, she was sheltered from the violence of the
winds and waves. But although the water was smoother, the waves were
still more than sufficient to beat to pieces any vessel that might be
driven on shore at the bottom of the bay, to which point the Ter
Schilling was now running. The bay so far offered a fair chance of
escape, as, instead of the rocky coast outside, against which, had the
vessel run, a few seconds would have insured her destruction, there was
a shelving beach of loose sand. But of this Philip could, of course,
have no knowledge, for the land at the entrance of the bay had been
passed unperceived in the darkness of the night. About twenty minutes
more had elapsed, when Philip observed that the whole sea around them
was one continued foam. He had hardly time for conjecture before the
ship struck heavily on the sands, and the remaining masts fell by the
board.

The crush of the falling masts, the heavy beating of the ship on the
sands, which caused many of her timbers to part, with a whole sea which
swept clean over the fated vessel, checked the songs and drunken revelry
of the crew. Another minute, and the vessel was swung round on her
broadside to the sea, and lay on her beam ends. Philip, who was to
windward clung to the bulwark, while the intoxicated seamen floundered
in the water to leeward, and attempted to gain the other side of the
ship. Much to Philip's horror, he perceived the body of Mynheer Kloots
sink down in the water (which now was several feet deep on the lee side
of the deck), without any apparent effort on the part of the captain to
save himself. He was then gone, and there were no hopes for him.
Philip thought of Hillebrant, and hastened down below; he found him
still in his bed-place, lying against the side. He lifted him out, and
with difficulty climbed with him on deck, and laid him in the long-boat
on the booms as the best chance of saving his life. To this boat the
only one which could be made available, the crew had also repaired; but
they repulsed Phi