The gloom of another night was gathering, and the [pg 294]Salapiæ was visibly deeper in the sea. But as the blackness closed around the sinking ship, there was no more joyful soul on board than Vivian. Amidst all the stress and danger his greatest wonder was himself.
Down, and still lower down, the helpless wreck heaved and plunged heavily during the second night. Would daylight ever come?
* * * * * * * * * *
At last the morning dawned, and they were still afloat. The storm had ceased, and the sun arose clear and bright from the eastern sea. The wind which had driven them so strongly towards Tarsus had entirely died away, and a light breeze was coming from the opposite direction. They were able to hoist more sail, but being obliged to tack, the progress of the water-logged ship became hardly perceptible.
Tarsus was now not very distant, but every soul on board clearly saw that the Salapiæ never could reach the wished-for port. Slowly, but with grim certainty, the water in the hold deepened, and direful Fate, with cruel footsteps, was silently approaching.
The faith of Serenus and Amabel never wavered. Even that of Vivian was firm and confident. But he neglected no feasible effort that belonged to his calling, and made all possible preparations for what seemed to be immediately impending. The ship’s boats had been swept away during the first assault of the storm, but with all diligence two rafts had been hurriedly constructed of such materials as were at hand, and some provisions and gurglets of water and wine lashed to them. But the [pg 295]waves were still high, and would wash over them if they were launched.
While there were no cries of confusion, as upon the first day of the storm, petitions were being offered, and vows made in various tongues to gods of different names.
The human mind at its greatest can grasp but an infinitesimal fraction of the Infinite, but it always has a deific ideal which fills its utmost capacity. No two ever possess quite the same, but to the individual it is the highest, and all there is. To it he must cry, and upon it he must stay himself, for he cannot go beyond.
But the Infinite dwells in every man’s ideal, however low. It is the link, unseen and perchance crude, which draws and binds him to the Eternal Goodness. Let us respect the supreme pattern of every human brother, though he be ignorant, simple, theologically untaught, or even vile. For him it must stand until a greater and purer takes its place. The “Father’s House,” even though provisional and unshapely, is hidden within the deep mists of every human soul.
But look! The city of Tarsus, with its white roofs and gilded towers, is now dimly visible in the far distance.