Suddenly a loud report was heard, like the discharge of a cannon in the air, and looking up, Kate saw what seemed a white cloud flying down to leeward.
“God have mercy on us,” she heard a voice cry, its sharp tone of agony rising over all the roar of wind and waters, “the main-topsail is gone. Look out, she strikes!”
At the same instant, Kate felt a shock, which precipitated her on her face, and instantaneously what appeared an ocean of water rushed over and submerged her.
CHAPTER III.
THE SHIPWRECK
“To hear
The roaring of the raging elements,
To know all human skill, all human strength,
Avail not; to look around, and only see
The mountain wave incumbent with its weight,
Of bursting waters o’er the reeling bark,—
Oh! God, this is indeed a dreadful thing.” —Southey.
“In breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving; boundless, endless and sublime.
Each zone
Obeys thee, thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.” —Byron.
In a moment, however, the brave girl struggled to her feet. Her first thought was of her aunt. She was about groping her way down to the cabin, for the purpose of seeking Mrs. Warren, when the latter’s voice was heard, faint with terror, calling on her name.
“Here I am, aunt,” answered Kate, as cheerfully as she could. She held out her hand, which Mrs. Warren eagerly caught.
At any other time Kate’s sense of the ludicrous would have overcome her at the figure of her aunt. The good lady had only had time to huddle on the most necessary garments, and some of these were even awry; while the elegancies of the toilet, about which the stately dame was so particular, were totally neglected for once. It was the fashion in those days, for elderly matrons, to wear a cushion on the top of the head, over which to comb the hair; but this was now wholly wanting to Mrs. Warren, and her hair, usually so precisely arranged, and so carefully powdered, hung in tangled elf-locks about her face. The whole of her person and dress, moreover, was dripping, like that of some Triton just risen from the sea. Could the excellent old creature have seen her image reflected in a glass, she would have fainted outright from shame and outraged propriety. But mortal fear had now so conquered every other sensation, that when she rushed into her niece’s arms, it was with the paramount feeling that in Kate’s heroic character was the only hope at this frightful juncture.
“Hold fast under the lee of this bulwark,” said the niece. “It’s the safest place I can find.”