towards the ship. Poor Mrs Morley
and her two daughters sat with their hands clasped together, not a word
escaping their lips; but though they were silent, their hearts were
lifted up in prayer, and they seemed to have forgotten the hardships in
store for them, and their own danger, while thinking of that to which
Colonel Morley was exposed.

Another boat under sail was seen standing in the wake of the launch,
supposed to be the first cutter. What had become of the other boats
could not be discovered. Very probably, they too had gone down,
overwhelmed by the heavy sea from which the larger boats had so narrowly
escaped. The dark cloud now burst over the spot where the devoted ship
lay, rising and falling amid the dark heaving seas, a dense shower of
sleet and rain, like a thick veil, completely shrouding her. Willy
strained his sharp eyes, but in vain; the "Ranger" was not to be seen,
and he could only just distinguish the white sail of the cutter
struggling after them through the tumbling seas.

On, on they flew; a sense of their own danger seemed to have absorbed
the thoughts of most on board. Scarcely an observation was made
regarding the fate of their companions; even the little baby which had
been so wonderfully preserved was for the time neglected, the woman who
held it appearing scarcely aware that she had the child in her arms.

"Come, come, Sarah, what are you about?" exclaimed Mrs Rumbelow, "are
you going to let that baby drop into the bottom of the boat, and be
drowned. You had better give it to me, poor little dear." Thus
aroused, the woman once more bestowed her attention on the little
stranger. Mrs Morley, overcome by her feelings, had at length given
way, and lay in an almost fainting state in her daughter's arms. Her
condition had not escaped Mrs Rumbelow's observation. The sergeant's
wife leaned forward towards her. She was sitting at no great distance.
"Come, rouse up, Mrs Morley, marm," she exclaimed, taking the poor
lady's hands, and chafing them with her own somewhat hard palms. "It is
God's will, dear lady, that we are here. He'll take care of those we
left on board. I, too, would lief have remained with my good-man; but
he ordered me to come, and I have always obeyed orders since I entered
the army, as I call it, and that's a good score of years ago. When we
have done our duty, to my mind, we should be content; and feel sure that
all will go right. I don't say what we call right