Wait till the storm shall cease to sweep the plain,
And we are doomed to cross yon heaving main.”
XXXIII.
No more he said, for she in silence went
From place to place until her task was o’er;
Williams, the while, the fleeting moments spent
To scrawl a message to delay the more—
Aye, to mislead the beagles on the scent,
Till he could safely reach far wood or shore;
And, haply, hope its vain illusion lent