"Nor for anyone," I rejoined, solemnly; "all rests with God."
"With God and our engineer," he resumed, tersely; "them sails is of little account, now the mainmast is struck away; them floppen petticoats, wat the wind loves to play in and out, layin' along like a lazy lubber that it is, and leaving its work for others to do. It was a noble mast, though, while it stood—and you could smell the turpentine blood in its heart to the very last. It was as limber as a sapling, and never growed brittle, like some wood, with age and dryness. No storm could splinter it, and it would fling itself over into the high waves sometimes, rayther than snap and lash them like a whip. But there it lies, burned with the fire of heaven's wrath, at last, and leaving its fires of hell behind, in the heart of the Kosciusko."
"You have changed your mind on the subject of engines, Mr. Garth, I am glad to see. Truly, ours seems to be doing giant's work; now we are flying, to be sure."
"Rushing, not flying, young lady—that's the word; our wings are little use to-day, you see, such as are left to us. Runnin' for dear life, we'd better say, for that's the truth of the matter, and may the merciful Lord speed us, and have in his care all helpless ones this day!"
The lifted hand, the bared head, the earnest accents, with which these words were spoken, gave to this simple utterance of good-will all the solemnity of a benediction or prayer.
I noticed that, after replacing his tarpaulin, the lips of Garth continued to move silently, then were compressed gravely for a time, while his eye, large, clear, and expressive, was fixed on space.
"Do you still see an iceberg, Mr. Garth? Do you really apprehend danger for us now?" I asked, after studying his countenance for a moment, "or, are you again desirous to try the nerves of your female passengers? I think I must apply to the captain this time for information."
"Yes, danger," he replied, in low, sad tones, ignoring my last remark, or perhaps not hearing it at all—"danger, compared with which an iceberg might be considered in the light of a heavenly marcy. There is a chance of grazing one of them snow-bowlders, or of its drifting away from a ship, when the ripples reach it, or, if the wust comes, a body can scramble overboard, and manage to live on the top of one of them peaks, or in one of their ice-caves, with a few blankets, and a little bread and junk and water, fur a space, so as to get a chance of meetin' a ship, or a schooner; but, when there is something wrong in a ship's heart, there a'n't much hope for rescue, onless it comes from above."
He hesitated, smiling grimly, rolled his quid, crammed his hat down over his eyes, and again addressed himself to his wheel, and, for a few moments, I stood beside him silently.
"The ship is leaking, I suppose," I said, at last, "so that you apprehend her loss, perhaps," and my heart sank coldly within me, as I spoke; "but, if this be true, why does not the captain apprise us? No, you are quizzing me again, and very cruelly this time, very unwarrantably."