to his shoulders.
They did not speak. Twice Dan had attempted to utter a cheering word,
but the wind had swept the sounds from his lips.

Both knew that at any moment the derelict might succumb to the forces
striving to destroy her. And, as they sat waiting, the realization
came to both what a small part of the incidents of this heaving night
the dismemberment of their washing vessel would be. In the vortex of
the riot, when the heavens and the ocean seemed united in the creation
of chaos, they sensed the littleness of their own lives and the vanity
of their affairs.

As a thunderous roar of wind smote the vessel Dan felt the pressure of
Virginia's hand on his shoulder suddenly tighten. He turned to her,
and through the darkness caught the vague outlines of her face, which
was fixed on the faint blur which marked the forward part of the hulk.

His eyes followed just as her fingers loosened their grasp. He saw
nothing save the dull flash of swirling waters and the amorphous blotch
of hull. Slowly her hand tightened again; and then, as he looked he
caught above the deck an impression of something moving. It seemed to
be something that was revealing itself to the instinct rather than to
their visual senses.

As the wind passed on, leaving that confused murmur, broken only by the
dogged rush of waters, Virginia spoke to Dan with trembling voice.

"What is it?"

Dan's eyes were still staring forward. He spoke through his clenched
teeth.

"Wait a moment." More accustomed to the gloom ahead he was able to
determine that the sail had torn from the boom and was waving out from
the shattered mast-top like a flag. The mast itself seemed to be
reeling. Was the hull opening and disintegrating?

Almost without volition he half arose to his feet. The girl followed
his action, still clinging to his shoulder. Dan inclined his head to
speak to her, when with a shriek the wind came again. There was a dull
crash forward, a splintering and rearing of wood, a quivering of the
entire hull; and then, as though hurled by a giant hand, a huge section
of wood, whether a part of cargo or hull Dan could not tell, shot out
of the night, crashing a hole in the roof of the cabin behind which
they were crouching, and then bounded over their heads into the sea.

Both remained still, as though carved in stone. Forward there was a
crashing sound, a series of blows, as though some great hammer were
engaged in disintegrating the hu