"But the sixteen who were brought ashore, did they live?" asked Lucilla; and in reply Mrs. Embury resumed her reading.
"The sixteen who had been carried ashore were treated with the greatest kindness by the islanders, all their wants carefully attended to; but for nearly all of them help had come too late, and all but three soon died. Of the Follen family Gretchen alone remained, a lonely, almost heart-broken creature, having seen father, mother, brother, and sister laid in the grave soon after landing upon the island. But Herr Hubert Ernesti remained. He had been beside her all these dreadful weeks and months, had sympathized in all her griefs, all her sufferings of mind and body, and each had learned to look upon the other as the nearest and dearest of all earthly beings; so that when, beside the newly filled grave that held the last of her family, he asked her to give herself to him that they might meet all coming trials and share all joys together, she did not say him nay, or withdraw the hand he had taken in his and held in a clasp so loving and tender.
"It was from them the islanders learned the sad story of the terrible scenes and sufferings on board the Palatine; an experience poor Gretchen could never recall without tears.
"Hubert and she remained upon that hospitable island for some years, then left it for their original destination, where, we will hope, they lived out the remainder of their lives in peace and happiness."
"And that is the end of your sad little story, is it?" asked Rosie, as her cousin paused in the reading.
"Of the story of those two," said Molly; "but I have something more to read, if no one is tired of listening."
No one seemed to be, and she resumed:
"Ever since the burning Palatine drifted away that night a strange light has been seen at intervals along this coast whence she departed on that last voyage. Many have seen it, and the superstitious and ignorant have looked upon it as the phantom of the burning ship Palatine, ever drifting upon the open sea, always burning but never consumed; seen only at long intervals, as she drifts off the western coast.
"A well-known physician of Block Island, having had two opportunities of seeing it, says, 'This curious irradiation rises from the ocean near the northern point of the island; looks like a blaze of fire; either touches the water or hovers over it. It bears no more resemblance to the ignis fatuus than to the aurora borealis. Sometimes it is small, resembling the light through a distant window; at others expanding to the height of a ship with all her canvas spread; the streams, somewhat blended together at the bottom, separate and distinct at the top, the middle one rising higher than the others. It is very variable—sometimes almost disappearing, then shining out anew. It changes about every three minutes; does not always return to the same place, but is sometimes seen shining at a considerable distance from the place of disappearance. It seems to have no certain line of direction. The flame, when most expanded, waves like a torch; is sometimes stationary, at others progressive. It is seen at all seasons of the year and, for the most part, in calm weather which precedes an easterly or southerly storm. It has, however, been noticed in a severe northwesterly gale and when no storm followed immediately. Its stay is sometimes short, at others all night, and it has been known to appear several nights in succession.'