My companion sat near me, lowering and silent. For two hours, the tornado lasted without interruption; the sun had set, and the darkness was opaque. It was impossible to move against the force of the wind and the deluge of water which descended. Speak we did not, but shut our eyes against the lightning, and held our fingers to our ears to deaden the noise of the thunder, which burst upon us in the most awful manner. My companion groaned at intervals, whether from fear, I know not; I had no fear, for I did not know the danger, or that there was a God to judge the earth.
Gradually the fury of the gale abated, the rain was only heavy at intervals, and we could now hear the beating of the waves, as they dashed against the rocks beneath us. The sky also cleared up a little, and we could dimly discern the white foam of the breakers. I crawled out of the cabin, and stood upon the platform in front, straining my eyes to see the vessel: A flash of lightning for a second revealed her to me; she was dismasted, rolling in the awful breakers, which bore her down upon the high rocks not a quarter of a mile from her.
“There it is,” exclaimed I, as the disappearance of the lightning left me in darkness, more opaque than ever.
“She’s done for,” growled my companion, who, I was not till then aware, stood by my side. “No hopes this time, confound it!” Then he continued for some time to curse and swear awfully, as I afterwards discovered, for I did not then know what was cursing and swearing.
“There she is again,” said I, as another flash of lightning revealed the position of the vessel.
“Yes, and she won’t be there long; in five minutes she’ll be dashed to atoms and every soul perish.”
“What are souls?” inquired I.
My companion gave me no reply.
“I will go down to the rocks,” said I, “and see what goes on.”
“What,” said he, “and share their fate?”