| 79 | 80 | 81 | 82 | 83 |
| 1 | 236 | 472 | 708 | 944 |
|
from behind the capes; some were doubling Portland Bill, the others St.
Alban's Head. From afar ships were running in. It was a race for refuge.
Southwards the darkness thickened, and clouds, full of night, bordered
on the sea. The weight of the tempest hanging overhead made a dreary
lull on the waves. It certainly was no time to sail. Yet the hooker had
sailed.
She had made the south of the cape. She was already out of the gulf, and
in the open sea. Suddenly there came a gust of wind. The Matutina,
which was still clearly in sight, made all sail, as if resolved to
profit by the hurricane. It was the nor'-wester, a wind sullen and
angry. Its weight was felt instantly. The hooker, caught broadside on,
staggered, but recovering held her course to sea. This indicated a
flight rather than a voyage, less fear of sea than of land, and greater
heed of pursuit from man than from wind.
The hooker, passing through every degree of diminution, sank into the
horizon. The little star which she carried into shadow paled. More and
more the hooker became amalgamated with the night, then disappeared.
This time for good and all.
At least the child seemed to understand it so: he ceased to look at the
sea. His eyes turned back upon the plains, the wastes, the hills,
towards the space where it might not be impossible to meet something
living.
8
1
Page
Quick Jump
|