Then it was that I finally understood the irreparable, tremendous loss I had sustained. But alas, alas! it was now too late, all was over, the end had come.
[4]The whole of this letter is carefully erased in the Journal of an Unknown.
CHAPTER IV
THE PILOT
For the last few moments, the plunging of the yacht had become worse and worse. I could hear a continuous roaring, which became constantly more violent. Very soon there were flashes of lightning, followed by the deep rolling of distant thunder.
Sometimes I heard the hurried steps of the sailors overhead, then again the sound was hushed, and I heard the loud voice of Williams, giving orders.
I could no longer doubt of it; we were overtaken by a tempest. I could no longer remain inactive.
Feeble as I was, I tried to get up, hoping that the fresh air would do me good. I rang the bell, and, with the aid of my valet de chambre, succeeded in dressing.
I had almost completely lost the use of my left arm.
I went up on deck. Falmouth was not there.