Looking about upon the wide waste of liquid ebony on which that helpless, past-struggling, beautiful, and apparently doomed figure was borne, I perceived that she, in the midst of the mighty, all-mastering misery, was not the only object in the embrace of the whirl. Both above and below were visible fragments of wreckage—significant wreckage—plumed hats, sword-sheaths, portfolios, epaulettes, decorations, insignia of honour, as if here a national Argosy, laden with Opulence, Rank Intelligence, and Honour, had gone, dismally and desperately, down to—what? Let those Phlegethon walls, that Tophet-like mist, make answer!
And that bound, helpless, seemingly doomed, but beautiful and piteously appealing figure on which my eyes were fixed in terror, and amaze, and profound compassion? Alas! Yet are there some objects which enter the whirl at a late period of the tide, which for some happy reason descend slowly after entering, which do not reach the bottom before the turn of the tide, which are not completely absorbed ere the desperate ordeal of danger is ended by utter submergence and entire wreck! These, conceivably, may be whirled up again to the level of the ocean, without undergoing the fate of those which had been drawn in more early, or absorbed more rapidly!
Here indeed the phantom of Hope seems to gleam forth rainbow-like even amidst the foul mists of the Maelström! That beautiful agonised figure seems yet but as it were at the edge of the whirl. Into its profound and pestilential depths, indeed, she can see. And she shudders at the sight, as must all who are interested in her fate. But the Ström will not whirl for ever, the hour of slack cannot be far off, and when the slope of the sides of the vast funnel become momentarily less and less steep, when the gyrations of the whirl grow gradually less and less violent, when the froth and the fume disappear, and the bottom of the gulf seems slowly to uprise; when the sky clears, and the winds go down, and the full moon rises radiantly o'er the swaying but no longer tormented floods, shall she, that beautiful, bound creature be found floating upon the quieting waves, sorely buffeted, may be much scarred, bearing in her beauty ineffaceable traces of the hideous ordeal she has undergone, but living, and Safe?
So may it be!