would be but a
delightful task to carve a home and a fortune for the two of us. So I
reasoned for a time, and then a more sober mood followed. I saw that I
had been indulging in an empty dream.

"There is no such happiness for me!" I groaned aloud. "I was a fool to
think of it for a moment. The girl loves me, it is true, but no
persuasion of mine could ever induce her to break her promise. She
belongs to Griffith Hawke, and she will marry him. And even if it were
possible to win her, honor and duty, which I have always held sacred,
would keep me from such a knavish trick. If I proved unfaithful to my
trust, could I ever hold up my head among men again?"

Thus I revolved the matter in my mind, and I confess that I was sorely
tempted more than once to stake all on the chance of making Flora my
own. But in the end I resolved to be true to my manhood--to the
principles my father had been at such pains to teach me. Without taking
the trouble to undress, I stretched myself on my bed--the hour was
late--and for a long time I dozed or tossed restlessly at intervals. At
last I fell into a sound sleep, and it could have been no great while
afterward when I was rudely awakened by a crash that pitched me out of
my bunk to the floor. A second and far louder crash followed at once,
immediately overhead, and then a shrill commotion broke out. I knew the
ship had struck, and I lost no time in getting to my feet. Luckily no
bones were broken, and with some difficulty--for the vessel was pitching
heavily--I groped my way through the darkness to the deck.

Here I beheld such a scene as I trust I may never see again. The
mainmast had fallen, tearing a great gap in the bulwark, and crushing
two sailors under its weight. Hiram Bunker and some of his men were
rushing to and fro, shouting and yelling; others were gazing as though
stupefied at the wreckage of shattered spars, flapping canvas, and
twisted cordage. The ship was plunging fore and aft--a sure sign that
she was not now aground. The mist had partly cleared, and the air was
raw and cutting. A storm of wind and rain was raging, blowing from the
starboard or seaward side. Several of the crew had followed me above,
but most of them had evidently been busy on deck at the time of the
disaster.

A single lamp was burning, and at first none observed my presence. All
was seemingly confusion and panic, and the skipper's orders were being
tardily obeyed. I moved forward a little, and recogn