It's like a dream, cap'n,' said Mogford; 'ain't it?'
'A dream with a plaguey nightmare into the bargain,' responded Stauncy; 'but the ship isn't launched, and the skipper isn't born, who can stand anything that comes.'
'Misfortunes will happen,' said the relative, with a sedate smile, 'and we must all be thankful it's no worse. We shall hear of many a wreck after such a night, and the list of widows and orphans will be greatly increased, I'm thinking.'
'Well, William,' said the captain, 'the mate knows, and I know, that every effort was made to weather the storm and keep her afloat. But it was to be.'
'There!' hastily interrupted the cousin. 'You're at your old doctrine again, James, which is really no creed at all, but only an easy, excusing way of getting over a difficulty, and sometimes of justifying a crime.'
'I don't know anything about that, William,' replied the captain; 'all I know is, that what is to be, will be.'
'What is to be: you mean by that, what has been determined by the Divine will. This is true as regards Divine permission, but not as regards responsibility and the rights and wrongs of what happens; because a great deal comes to pass through the wickedness of men, who act from the impulses of their own bad hearts.'
The captain winced, and, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable at the turn his relative's logic had taken, he replied, 'I cannot argue with you, cousin, particularly as you are a pious man. All I want to say is, that everything was done that mortal could do to survive the gale. But it was to be.'
'Everything,' said the mate; 'nothing but good handling would have kept her from foundering, or from running ashore between Bude and 'Arty. No better seamanship could be.'
'Thank you, Mogford,' replied Stauncy; 'we shall have to give an account of ourselves, I suppose, and you'll bear witness for me, I'm sure.'