ed by the
situation, Nigel could not help wondering that in this final and
complete destruction of the town no sign of struggling human beings
should be visible. He forgot at the moment, what was terribly proved
afterwards, that the first waves had swallowed up men, women, and
children by hundreds, and that the few who survived had fled to the
hills, leaving nothing for the larger wave to do but complete the work
of devastation on inanimate objects. Ere the situation had been well
realised the volcanic fires went down again, and left the world, for
over a hundred surrounding miles, in opaque darkness. Only the humble
flicker of the binnacle-light, like a trusty sentinel on duty, continued
to shed its feeble rays on a few feet of the deck, and showed that the
compass at least was still faithful to the pole!

Then another volcanic outburst revealed the fact that the wave which
carried them was thundering on in the direction of a considerable cliff
or precipice--not indeed quite straight towards it, but sufficiently so
to render escape doubtful.

At the same time a swarm of terror-stricken people were seen flying
towards this cliff and clambering up its steep sides. They were
probably some of the more courageous of the inhabitants who had summoned
courage to return to their homes after the passage of the second wave.
Their shrieks and cries could be heard above even the roaring of the
water and the detonations of the volcano.

"God spare us!" exclaimed poor Winnie, whose trembling form was now
partially supported by Nigel.

As she spoke darkness again obscured everything, and they could do
naught but listen to the terrible sounds--and pray.

On--on went the _Sunshine_, in the midst of wreck and ruin, on this
strange voyage over land and water, until a check was felt. It was not
a crash as had been anticipated, and as might have naturally been
expected, neither was it an abrupt stoppage. There was first a hissing,
scraping sound against the vessel's sides, then a steady checking--we
might almost say a hindrance to progress--not violent, yet so very
decided that the rigging could not bear the strain. One and another of
the backstays parted, the foretopsail burst with a cannon-like report,
after which a terrible rending sound, followed by an indescribable
crash, told that both masts had gone by the board.

Then all was comparatively still--comparatively we say, for water still
hissed and leaped beneath them like