the
high bows of a ship. Indeed, its very nearness gave her the feeling that
it was already saved, and its occasional heavy roll to leeward, drunken,
helpless, ludicrous, but never awful, brought a hysteric laugh to her
lips. But when a livid blue light, lit in the swinging top, showed a
number of black objects clinging to bulwarks and rigging, and the sea,
with languid, heavy cruelty, pushing rather than beating them away, one
by one, she knew that Death was there.

The neighbors, her father with the others, had been running hopelessly
to and fro, or cowering in groups against the copse, when suddenly they
uttered a cry--their first--of joyful welcome. And with that shout,
the man she most despised and hated, Sol. Catlin, mounted on a "calico"
mustang, as outrageous and bizarre as himself, dashed among them.

In another moment, what had been fear, bewilderment, and hesitation
was changed to courage, confidence, and action. The men pressed eagerly
around him, and as eagerly dispersed under his quick command. Galloping
at his heels was a team with the whale-boat, brought from the river,
miles away. He was here, there, and everywhere; catching the line thrown
by the rocket from the ship, marshaling the men to haul it in, answering
the hail from those on board above the tempest, pervading everything
and everybody with the fury of the storm; loud, imperious, domineering,
self-asserting, all-sufficient, and successful! And when the boat was
launched, the last mighty impulse came from his shoulder. He rode at the
helm into the first hanging wall of foam, erect and triumphant! Dazzled,
bewildered, crying and laughing, she hated him more than ever.

The boat made three trips, bringing off, with the aid of the hawser,
all but the sailors she had seen perish before her own eyes. The
passengers,--they were few,--the captain and officers, found refuge in
her father's house, and were loud in their praises of Sol. Catlin. But
in that grateful chorus a single gloomy voice arose, the voice of a
wealthy and troubled passenger. "I will give," he said, "five thousand
dollars to the man who brings me a box of securities I left in my
stateroom." Every eye turned instinctively to Sol.; he answered only
those of Jenny's. "Say ten thousand, and if the dod-blasted hulk holds
together two hours longer I'll do it, d--n me! You hear me! My name's
Sol. Catlin, and when I say a thing, by G-d, I do it." Jenny's disgust
here reached its climax. The