“‘But,’ said I, ‘Dean, don’t talk any more about it just now, it will fatigue you; tell me how you feel.’ ‘No,’ answered he, ‘it does not fatigue me, and I want to collect myself. Things are getting clearer to me. My memory returns to me gradually. I see the terrified crew. It was but an instant. I heard the crash. The great body of the ice fell right amidships,—right upon the galley. Poor cook! he must have been killed instantly. Some of the crew jumped overboard; I tried to, but got no farther than the bulwarks, and then was in the water; I don’t know how I got there. When I came up there was a man under me, and I was tangled among some rigging, but was lifted up out of the water on some large mass of wreck. The man I told you of tried to get up too; but his feet were caught, and I saw him drowning. I saw another man holding on to the wreck, but a piece of ice struck him, and he must have fallen off immediately.’
“‘Dean, Dean!’ said I, ‘do stop! you are feverish; quiet yourself, and we’ll talk of these things by and by’;—and the boy fell back quite exhausted. His skin was very hot, and his face flushed. ‘O my head, my head!’ exclaimed he; ‘it pains me dreadfully! Am I hurt?’ and he put his hand to the side of his head where he had been struck, and, finding that he was wounded, said: ‘I remember it now perfectly. A heavy wave came, and was tossing a piece of timber over me, and I tried to avoid being struck by it. After that I remember nothing. It must have struck me. I’m not much hurt,—am I?’
“‘No, Dean,’ I answered, ‘not much hurt, only a little bruised.’
“‘Have you any water, Hardy?’ he asked, ‘I am so thirsty!’
“It was fortunate that I had brought some in the eggshells, and in a moment I had given him a drink. It did me good to see him smile, as I handed him the water, and ask where I got such odd cups from. ‘Thanks, thanks!’ said he; ‘I’m better now.’ Then after a moment’s pause he added, ‘I want to get up and see where we are. I’m very weak; won’t you help me?’ But I told him that I would not do it now, for the present he must lie quiet. ‘Then raise me up and let me look about.’ So I raised him up, and he took first a look at the strange pile of eider-down that was upon him, and then at the ice-covered sea, but he spoke not a word. Then he lay down, and after a short time said calmly: ‘I see it all now. Hard,—isn’t it? But we must do the best we can. I feel that I’ll soon be well, and will not be a trouble to you long. Do you know that until this moment I could hardly get it out of my head that I had been dreaming? We must trust in Heaven, Hardy, and do the best we can.’
“Being now fully satisfied as to the complete recovery of the Dean, I gave myself no further concern about watching him; but at once, after he had, in his quiet way, asked me if I was not very tired, I buried myself up in the heap of eider-down close beside him, and was soon as deeply buried in a sound sleep.”
The Captain, evidently thinking that he had gone far enough for one day, now broke off suddenly. The children had listened to the recital more eagerly than on any previous occasion,—so much so, indeed, that they had wholly disregarded the storm; and little Alice was so absorbed in learning the fate of the poor shipwrecked Dean, that her fears about the thunder and lightning had been quite forgotten. When the Captain paused, the storm had passed over, the sun had burst through the scattering clouds, and in the last lingering drops his silver rays were melted into gorgeous hues; for
“A rainbow—thrown brightly
Across the dark sky—
(Soft curving, proud arching
In beauty on high)
“Had circled the even,—
A bridal ring, given
To wed earth with heaven,
As it smiled ’neath the veil of the glittering rain.”