“At length the day began to dawn, and revealed a spectacle more grand, yet awful, than you can well imagine. The deafening roar of winds and waters continued. In looking seaward, nothing but sheets of dazzling foam met the eye; whilst the huge breakers, now bursting on the shore, now dashing themselves against the cliffs, seemed ready to swallow up all that opposed them.”
“Oh! the beautiful pier,” cried Lewis, “what became of it then?”
“It was safe,” replied his papa; “amid the contending elements, there it stood, stretching out into the sea, now almost hidden beneath the swelling waters, now showing its graceful form uninjured above the retiring waves. Some of the outworks alone were carried away; the pier itself remained entire. But, my children, I thought less at that moment of this beautiful structure, than of such of my fellow-creatures as were wanderers on ocean’s troubled breast: the thought of the hardships they must have endured in that night of storms made me sad, whilst my heart was raised in thankfulness to Him who had cast my lot in scenes less fraught with peril.”
Mr. Ashton would have told his little boys, that under the protecting providence of God we are alike safe, whether on sea or land; but he was interrupted by the rough voice of a sailor who stood by them, and seemed to forget, while listening to the gentleman’s narration, that he was in any other company than his own.
“Ah! sure enough, they have reason to be thankful to the end of their days who got safe ashore. Yes, it was in that very storm my poor Will was lost, and Mary and the babies left to struggle as they could: but they shall never want a crust while old Tom Price has one to share with them.”
Mr. Ashton turned to look on the speaker. Time and care had deeply furrowed the cheeks of the old seaman, and long exposure to hardships had given a stern expression to his features; but there was something in his voice and manner which interested his hearers.
“Do you live here? Shall you ever go to sea again? Can you tell us more about that terrible storm?” with many other questions, were asked by the children; nor did Mr. Ashton take his leave until he had learned the old seaman’s place of abode, and promised, before very long, to pay him a visit.
“And, now boys,” said he, “for a run: mamma will think us long in coming; and if you are as hungry as I am, you will not be sorry to sit down to breakfast.”
The Esplanade, Brighton, looking toward Shoreham.