Paul himself at length began to grow very weary, and to long to lie down and rest.
“If I could stop back for three minutes, I could easily run on and catch them up,” he thought to himself; yet he did not like to make the proposal to Devereux, who, he still had sense enough to believe, would not agree to it.
Poor Paul, was this to be the termination of all your aspirations for naval glory, to sink down and die on a frozen sand-bank, within a few miles of a spot where you may obtain food, shelter, and warmth?
“I can stand it no longer, I must rest,” he said to himself. “There is a snug spot between two slabs of ice, quite an arm-chair. I must sit in it, if only for two minutes.”
Devereux must have divined his thoughts, or probably observed the irregular and faltering steps he was making, for, seizing him by the arm, he exclaimed, with judicious roughness—
“Come, rouse up, Paul, my dear fellow! We must have none of this folly. I did not expect it from you.”
The words had their due effect. By a powerful effort Paul threw off his lethargy, and once more sprang on with the rest, continuing to talk and encourage his companions.
Still no one could tell whether or not they should ever reach their destination. The snow fell thicker than ever, and not a windmill, a spire, or a willow, or any of the objects which adorn the shores of the Elbe, could be seen to indicate that they were approaching the haunts of men. It was too evident that many of their number had passed from among them since they began their march, and no one could say who might follow. Many were complaining bitterly of the cold, and others had ceased to complain, as if no longer conscious of the effect it was producing.
Suddenly there was a shout from those in advance. The rear ranks hurried on. A house was seen, then another, and another. They were in the middle of a village. Kind people came out of their houses to inquire what had occurred; and at once there was no lack of hearty invitations, and the whole party were soon enjoying warmth, hot drinks, and dry clothing, which soon revived the greater number, though some who had been frost-bitten required considerable attention before they were set to rights.
The next day the storm raged as furiously as before, and so it continued for nearly a week, and all had reason to be thankful that they had reached a place of safety. At length, the weather moderating, and provisions on the island growing very scarce, the ambassador and his suite, and half of the ship’s company, proceeded on, though not without great difficulty and hazard, to Cuxhaven, while the rest remained on the island, in the hope of saving some of the ship’s stores.